Maximum Chaos
by Nation of Chaos
Summary: Emily/OMC; The impact one meta-human man has on the FBI's Behavioral Analysis Unit, as well as on one particular female profiler's life. Criminal Minds set in an alt version of DC Comics' alt universe New Earth. Rated M for later content.
1. The New Guy

**General Disclaimer**

Any and all content related specifically to _Criminal Minds_ is the property of the creator **Jeff Davis,** **The Mark Gordon Production Company, CBS Television Studios, and ABC Studios**. Any and all content related specifically to _DC Comics, The DC Universe, and/or The Birds of Prey-TV _is the property of **DC Entertainment, Warner Bros., and Time Warner**. Any and all content related specifically to _The X-files_ is the property of **Chris Carter**, **Ten Thirteen Productions**, and **20****th**** Century Fox Television**.

Be advised that this is not my Petri dish. I'm just wrecking someone else's experiment. For free. All original characters and plots, however, do belong to me, Nation of Chaos, and may not be reproduced without my permission. 

* * *

**Maximum Chaos**

By Nation of Chaos

Chapter One – The New Guy 

Emily Prentiss flinched as a wadded-up ball of paper bounced off the side of her head. She quickly turned from her monitor in order to glare at her fellow agent. "What is _wrong_ with you?" she hissed at Derek Morgan.

He ignored her look and tipped his head in the direction of the raised walkway circling the BAU bullpen. "Who's that?" His brows rose slightly as he watched a tall, dark-haired man lead Section Chief Erin Strauss toward the offices right above their little corner of the room.

Emily glanced over where indicated in time to see that same man gesture for Strauss to precede him into her Unit Chief's office. As the door closed, she shrugged and swiveled around to her other co-worker. "Reid? Help us out."

_Sometimes knowing more than everyone else is frustrating and burdensome. But often it is…most enjoyable_. With that thought in mind, Spencer Reid sat back in his chair with his elbows propped on the arms and smiled broadly. "What's it worth to you?"

Emily rolled her eyes. "Allowing you to retain the satisfaction derived from _always_ knowing more than the rest of us?"

Morgan crossed his arms over his chest and shook his head at his young cohort. "Give it a rest, kid. Chances are good we'll find out soon enough anyway. We're just letting you beat them to the punch."

Reid frowned. "Not exactly. I mean, I know who he is but not necessarily what he's doing here."

With a massive sigh of exasperation, Emily dug through one of her desk drawers. A tiny cry of triumph later had her chucking the piece of chocolate over the divider between her cube and Reid's. "There. Now pay up."

A look of glee briefly crossed the young man's face as he swiftly pounced on the confection. His attention now mostly engaged in the unwrapping of his bounty, he absently muttered, "A.D. Rajin Scott, Special Projects."

"Really?" Morgan eyed Hotch's door skeptically and finally sat back down. "Huh."

Emily's brow quirked in consternation. "Who is he?" She waved a careless hand. "I mean, I've heard the name, but I've never seen him."

"Because he's never around to be seen," Morgan muttered somewhat derisively. "I mean…hell. I've been with the BAU almost five years and never laid eyes on the dude."

"That's not really a fair statement, Derek." Reid often disagreed with Morgan's non case-related opinions, observations, and behavior, but he didn't typically say anything. Today, he was feeling rather contrary. "It isn't necessarily his fault he's always being sent out to other agencies. And from what I've heard, he played as integral a part in building certain aspects of the BAU as did Gideon and David Rossi a few years before him." Truthfully, Spencer was a bit intrigued by Agent Scott and would love to be able to sit down and talk with him one day. "Matter of fact," Reid furrowed his brows in mock-confusion, "weren't you _there_ while Hotch and Gideon were having that conversation?"

Morgan just grunted in reply and returned to his paperwork, seemingly no longer interested in discussing the Assistant Director or the current goings-on in Aaron Hotchner's office.

_What's his problem?_ Emily gazed back and forth between him and Reid before glancing back up toward Hotch's office. "Where's he been?" she asked Reid thoughtfully, curious in light of Morgan's obvious negativity.

"Italy," was the surprising response. "He's been on loan to the _Carabinieri_." 

* * *

Since he was expected, Rajin confidently rapped his knuckles twice against Aaron Hotchner's office door before opening it and allowing Section Chief Strauss to pass through ahead of him.

Hotch stood up as his visitors entered, gave a quick nod to Strauss, and quickly approached his old friend. "Raj," he greeted warmly, hand extended.

"Aaron!" Rajin closed the door, turned, and grinned at his former partner. He grasped on to Hotch and tugged him forward into a very brief, yet hardy, embrace, thumping him once on the back. "Good to see you, pal."

"You, too. How was Italy?"

"Challenging. Kind of glad to be back, although I do wish the circumstances were different."

Strauss frowned at the obvious friendship between the two men as they continued to visit. It wasn't something she'd been expecting. Though, to be honest, none of this was what she'd been expecting. And definitely not what she'd been hoping for. She cleared her throat to break into their conversation. When both men turned in her direction, she lifted a sculpted brow. "You two know each other?" The unspoken '_in more than a professional sense_' crystal clear in her tone.

Knowing he'd basically just put a huge crimp in Strauss's machinations, Rajin didn't want to antagonize the woman more than usual. But he couldn't help teasing her slightly. "Someone didn't do her homework." He gestured to Aaron and himself. "When Aaron first joined the BAU, he was assigned as my partner. We've known each other for years."

Both men took a secret pleasure in observing the clenching of the Section Chief's fists against her hips. And though highly entertained, Hotch was also confused. As far as the big picture was concerned, it wasn't exactly shocking to note that he having a close friendship with someone who outranked Erin Strauss troubled the woman. He didn't, however, have the first clue about why Rajin had scheduled this meeting nor why he'd brought Strauss with him.

Rajin motioned toward the chairs in front of Hotch's desk. "Let's have a seat, yeah?" Once everyone sat down, Rajin looked over at Hotch. "You're down a man, Aaron."

Hotch nodded, his features once again returning to the taciturn and stoically serious arrangement typically shown to the public. "Yes. Gideon's experience will be sorely missed." _Even though I'm so pissed at him, I could choke him._

Rajin sat back in his chair and nodded, his gaze focused on his fingers where they tapped a random rhythm upon his thigh. He cocked his head and peered up at the other man. "I can fix that." Rajin watched Aaron puzzle over his statement, saw the moment he realized what it meant.

"_You?"_ Hotch exclaimed, his brows lowering further as the ramifications set in. "What about Special Projects?"

"Still mine." Rajin replied easily, maintaining eye contact with his old friend. "I'm only coming in as a profiler, Aaron. I'll still be running Special Projects, so I certainly don't need any Unit Chief headaches." _I can barely handle the ones I've got. _He didn't want the man thinking he was coming in to take over. That was the last thing Rajin wanted.

And now the light dawned for Hotch. Rajin was pissing in Strauss's sandbox, and she was livid! _Holy shit! _He wanted to laugh, and it was only due to years of practice that he maintained control over his countenance. "In that case…it looks like we have quite a bit to discuss," was all he said.

Rajin smiled. He nodded and turned to the woman seething silently beside him. "If you have nothing to add then I think this meeting is adjourned. Aaron and I can take it from here." As dismissals went, it was hardly subtle. Then again, Rajin Scott was not known for his diplomacy.

To her credit, Strauss left as gracefully as one could when one's tail was tucked between one's legs.

Once his door shut behind the Section Chief's retreating form, Aaron looked back at Rajin in bemusement. "How the hell did you make Assistant Director?"

At that, Rajin laughed out loud. "Special Projects, l'homme! They can hide me away when they need to!" 

* * *

Down at her desk, Emily's eyebrows rose high on her forehead. _Laughter? From Hotch's office? Seriously?_ She glanced over to see if Reid also heard it. Spencer's eyes were wide with surprise. Simultaneously, they both rotated toward Morgan only to find the man hunkered down over his keyboard with his earbuds firmly in place, head bopping to a beat only he could hear.

Reid spun back to Emily and shrugged before resuming his work, leaving Emily alone to contemplate the odd occurrence. 

* * *

Late that same afternoon, Rajin left Aaron's office to collect some forms from his own. He may have made the decision to join Aaron's team, but Rajin was completely aware there were certain consequences to the move that required documentation in order to safeguard his privacy. The BAU's A-Team was about to become privy to some extremely sensitive information.

Ten minutes after Rajin's departure, Hotch stepped out into the bullpen to quietly announce, "Conference Room in five, please." He left the three agents to speculate as to the meeting's purpose and made his way to J.J.'s office where he repeated his directive with the added request that she also fetch Garcia.

Rajin met up with Aaron back at the Conference Room door and entered to a room full of curious faces. He set a folder down on the table before thrusting his hands in his pockets, standing next to his long-time co-worker and friend.

The room of agents staring back at him saw a seemingly laidback man clad in black trousers. His dark gray dress shirt was tieless, the collar open, exposing the white undershirt beneath. Though the boys made note of it, it fascinated the females of the team that a member of the administration was dressed much more casually than was their boss. The side-by-side comparisons were unavoidable. The newcomer topped Hotch by about an inch but was much more muscular. And though his short hair was as dark (or darker) than the Unit Chief's, his eyes were a pale, icy blue. A startling contrast to be sure.

With five sets of eyes flicking back and forth between them, Hotch gestured to his left. "Some of you may recognize Assistant Director Scott. For those who don't, this is Rajin Scott, A.D. for Special Projects." He glanced quickly around the table, making sure to catch everyone's eye. "Effective immediately, he'll be joining our team."

The room erupted with the excited utterances of the bewildered and disbelieving.

_Wow_. Rajin tipped his head thoughtfully toward Aaron. "They always jump to conclusions like that?" he asked in a murmur.

"Not usually," Hotch glowered in slight disappointment. "If you all are finished," he addressed the room with a bit of bite to his tone, "you might consider allowing us to explain the situation before you make an even worse first impression on a man who outranks all but five people in the entire Bureau."

Rajin stepped into the abrupt silence. "As Hotch said, I'm Rajin Scott. Raj or," his lips twitched in amusement, "as I was coined by a resident of the Village of the Unimaginative a dozen years ago, Scotty. Whichever you prefer." He smiled gently at the blonde who waved from the other side of the table, her numerous bracelets rattling with the motion. _Must be Garcia._ He nodded to the others, absently noting the brunette female twist her head in a classic listening pose. _Ah, the linguist. Interesting._ Expounding further on his position with the unit, he spoke with reassurance clear in his voice. "To clarify my position, I'm only joining this team as a profiler. I'll be maintaining my other responsibilities to Special Projects, and you'll all know why very shortly. So to ease your minds, I have no desire to step on Hotch's toes, nor do I want his headaches." He smirked. "I have enough of my own, thank you very much."

As most of the room's occupants relaxed at Scotty's pronouncement, Hotch again took over. "Scotty and I actually go way back. When I was initially assigned to the BAU, he was my first partner. We remained partners until units were formed and the BAU became more team oriented." He looked pointedly around the table. "He'll be an extremely valuable addition to this team." He glanced back at Rajin. "In ways you can't possibly imagine," he stated cryptically. He then began pointing around the table. "Scotty, meet Dr. Spencer Reid, SSA's Emily Prentiss and Derek Morgan, our Technical Analyst Penelope Garcia, and our Communications Liaison SSA Jennifer Jareau, who prefers to be called 'J.J.'."

Rajin nodded at each agent as Hotch went around the table. Once the introductions were complete, Rajin opened the folder before him and began passing around a stack of forms. He waited until everyone had one before he continued. "What you have in front of you is a non-standard, extremely _specific_ Non-Disclosure Agreement. Please read it very carefully before signing it. Also, please understand…signing this NDA is a requirement to remain with the team."

He quickly catalogued the expressions visible on each face: intrigue for Dr. Reid, Prentiss a more difficult read. Concern, maybe? Morgan showed suspicion and distrust, Garcia…confusion. Jareau was definitely curious. All were intently perusing their forms. He was amused when only seconds passed before the agent to his immediate left quickly scrawled his name across the bottom of the third page. He didn't bother asking the young man if he'd read the contents carefully. Dr. Reid's talents were well known throughout the Bureau.

He and Hotch waited patiently for the others to finish reading the Agreement. One by one, they eventually looked back up at the two of them. Prentiss stared at Rajin for a moment, her head tipped in thought. He met her gaze evenly. After a moment, she picked up her pen and also signed. He smiled at her as he took the NDA from her out-stretched hand. Garcia and J.J. also signed their forms, passing them across the table for Hotch to collect.

Derek Morgan frowned down at the form before lifting his head, his mutinous gaze landing on his Unit Chief. "Hotch, man, come on. Seriously?" He shook his head in disbelief. "We get a new team member, and that's somehow a matter of national security? Give me a break."

Hotch stared intently back at his most outspoken agent. His response, however, left no room for ambiguity. "Please remember who it is you're talking about," he stated softly. "He doesn't actually have to entertain your concerns. Your options are to sign the Agreement and abide by it fully and completely or to take the transfer of your choice wherever there's an opening." He gave a quick shake of his head when Morgan opened his mouth to respond, unwilling to pander to his trust issues. "No arguments, Morgan. There are extremely valid reasons for this, and it's _not_ negotiable."

For the first time since entering the room, the Assistant Director hardened his features. When he spoke, his words radiated with the authority of his position as he issued an unmistakable warning. "Understand the following: if you're guilty of spreading this information beyond the boundaries of this immediate team, meaning those of you in this room and this room _only_, retaining your job will be the absolute least of your concerns." His eyes turned glacial, making it clear to all that he was deadly serious and his threat was in no way 'idle.'

Morgan's jaw bunched as he gritted his teeth, the only visible movement of his person, as he stared at the two men on the opposite side of the table from where he sat. He practically vibrated with tension. Everyone watched as he mentally weighed his obvious, yet baffling, distrust against his desire to remain with his team. Though Rajin was ambivalent, the rest of the room sighed with relief when he eventually picked up his pen to place his signature where required. When finished, he gave a quick flick of his wrist.

Rajin quietly caught the form as it slid his way, placing it with the others. He shot a quick glance over to Hotch who nodded and crossed to close the blinds and shut the door. Rajin saw Spencer sit up straight, anticipation clear in his features. Prentiss merely lifted a sculpted brow, and the others demonstrated equal expressions of curiosity and expectation. He took a step back from the table and again placed his hands in his pockets, rocking back and forth a bit on his feet. Then he shrugged and calmly stated, "I'm meta-human." 

* * *

Surprise was a given. The silence, however, was quite unexpected. Rajin's lips curled in bemusement as he waited for some type of verbal reaction – which didn't come for more than a minute. He should've been prepared for Spencer Reid's onslaught of questions when they finally came, but there was no way to anticipate just how many words the genius could spew with such rapidity in such a small window of time. He blinked in fascination at the level of interest the young man displayed and smiled in gratitude at Agent Prentiss when she placed a hand on Reid's arm and murmured, "Slow down and let him actually answer."

Which Rajin was fully prepared to do. After all, he had been expecting some of the questions Spencer had raised. He pulled out the chair in front of him and sat down, watched Hotch do the same, before turning slightly toward Reid. "To start, I have the meta-level metabolism and immune system common to most metas, as well as enhanced speed and strength." When Reid nodded, Rajin realized the genius probably had more of an understanding of meta-humans than the rest of the team simply by virtue of the sheer volume of literature he read, in addition to his innate and insatiable curiosity about nearly everything.

Others in the room were completely ignorant regarding meta-humans in general, let alone their physiology. J.J. raised her hand slightly off the table to get his attention. "I'm sorry," she smiled hesitantly, her confusion evident. "What does that mean exactly?" She glanced around at the others. "I've never knowingly met a meta-human before. I'm not sure I actually believed they existed." She chuckled self-consciously and rolled her eyes. "I mean, I know they _exist_, but…you know what I mean."

Garcia was nodding vigorously next to her friend. "I'm with Jayje. Aware but…uninformed, I guess." She looked over at J.J. and then back at Rajin. "Assistant Director Sco—Raj" she struggled with how best to address her newest team member.

"Scotty's fine." Rajin smiled kindly at the flustered analyst.

"Scotty. Right," Garcia took a deep breath and pushed her glasses up the bridge of her nose. "Sir, um…I have no idea what meta-level _anything_ is. Are you a bird? A plane? Superman – like the Hotchster? I have an enquiring mind, and I want to know."

Rajin grinned and sat back. He glanced over at Hotch and chuckled at the barely suppressed amusement on the Unit Chief's features. J.J., Prentiss, and Reid all laughed lightly. Even Morgan's lips twitched.

"Well, Miss Garcia. Allow me to clarify." He loosely crossed his arms over his chest. "Most metas have a very fast metabolism. Many meta-traits take an incredible amount of energy to sustain. Suffice to say...I eat _a lot_. Most metas also have what could be considered _superhuman_ immune systems, and I am no different. I don't get colds or the flu. I'm not susceptible to most poisons." He tipped his head and smiled. "And it would take an ocean of alcohol to get me drunk."

Prentiss shifted restlessly in her seat. "And the speed? The strength?" she prompted quietly, completely fascinated despite herself.

Just based on a quick observation, Rajin had the feeling that Prentiss, as well as Morgan, fell somewhere between Reid and Garcia on the meta-knowledge scale. It was Rajin's turn to smile self-consciously as he answered the brunette's question. "My top speed is somewhere around thirty-five miles per hour, but I can't maintain it indefinitely. And I suppose my strength could also be considered superhuman, but I'm not the Incredible Hulk." He bobbed his head back and forth in consideration for a moment. "I guess you could say…well…I could leverage a truck off of someone who was trapped with little to no effort, but I couldn't, like, pick up the entire thing." He looked back at Prentiss. "Does that make sense?"

Emily nodded. "It does." Her brow rose a second later. "What is it?" she asked as she studied Rajin's face as it grew introspective.

Rajin internally rolled his eyes. _Profilers_. Outwardly, his brows also rose as he murmured, "It's actually my secondary meta-traits which allow my strength to become truly superhuman."

Reid leaned forward and frowned. "How do you mean?"

"Hmmm, let me go back a second. We skipped the primary stuff." He turned back to Garcia and winked. "I actually _can_ leap tall buildings in, well, not a _single_ bound. But almost."

Unable to help herself, Penelope clapped her hands together and let out a little squee of excitement. "Really?"

Rajin huffed in amusement. "There are common traits to most metas, those I've mentioned. But no two metas have the exact same abilities. Most are completely and wholly unique. Others, like me, share primary traits with a group – typically family – but have differing secondary abilities which, in turn, make them unique." He took in the rapt gazes of his new team. Even Hotch, who knew all of this already, was fully engaged. He absently ran a hand down the side of his face, pondering how best to describe abilities which were such an innate part of him. He quirked a brow at his friend, silently asking for a little assistance.

Hotch smirked. "He's a cat."

"Excuse me?" J.J. shook her head in confusion.

"Thank you, Mr. Ambiguous," Rajin muttered, eliciting a bark of laughter from Prentiss who quickly clapped a hand over her mouth. She was unable to hide the twinkle in her eye, and Rajin's lips twitched in reaction.

Hotch leaned back in his chair. "Let me rephrase." He turned to J.J. "His primary abilities manifest in decidedly cat-like ways."

Rajin rolled his eyes visibly this time. "Yeah, that'll clear things right up."

"Feel free to jump in then," Hotch acerbically pointed out. "They're _your_ characteristics."

Reid cleared his throat to gain attention. "What type of cat?" he queried when the Assistant Director turned back toward him.

Rajin looked briefly up toward the ceiling to gather his thoughts. "I'd have to say," he began slowly, "my primary abilities and mannerisms are both leonine _and_ feline in nature."

Reid's brows rose. "Can you please expand on that?"

"Sure." Rajin sat up to rest his elbows on the table. "I've got the extraordinary eyesight and hearing that both types of cat have. I'm a tracker…a hunter, much like a lion, when using those enhanced senses. And like your common housecat," he smiled at Garcia, "I can jump incredibly high, and I always land on my feet."

At that, Morgan finally demonstrated interest. "How high?"

"Pretty high," he murmured. "Standing next to a three story building, I can jump onto the roof from a stationary position."

"Wow." Morgan looked impressed.

"What about your," J.J. gestured vaguely toward Rajin, "what did you call them? Your secondary meta-traits?"

"Ah," Rajin nodded. "Yes. I'm, uh," he absently raised a hand, palm outward, in front of him, "telekinetic." With a snatching motion of his hand through the air, Garcia's laptop slid across the table to rest in front of him. And as gasps sounded around him, he flicked his fingers and mentally 'pushed' it over to Agent Prentiss.

The spellbound group of agents looked from the laptop to Rajin, then back to the laptop. Emily lifted her gaze and contemplated the meta-human for a long moment, her features turning speculative. Her eyes widened with a sudden realization. "What's the catch?" she asked softly.

Rajin's smile was a bit brittle and somewhat sad as he nodded down at his hands. "Nice catch, Agent Prentiss," he whispered. He remained focused on his hands when he finally answered the question posed. "When I…_augment_…I become…I get really wi-…" he trailed off in embarrassment, his ears flushing a dark red. He sighed and self-consciously rubbed a hand roughly through his hair. "Feral," he muttered flatly. "I become feral."

A hush again descended across the room. Concern, pity, wariness, and fascination. A mixture was felt by each of the non-metas around the table as they watched an obviously discomfited Rajin Scott.

Hotch ended the silence. "Are you all beginning to understand the nature of Special Projects and the reasons for the Non-Disclosure Agreement?" He received nods in response.

"Special Projects works because of _who_ I am," Rajin distractedly watched Prentiss hand the laptop back to Garcia the old-fashioned way. "It was created because of _what_ I am. And _that_," he stressed as he met the eyes of each team member, "is classified at the highest level. There are less than a dozen other people in the world who know what you all now know."

And there just wasn't a whole lot to say after that. 

TBC… 

* * *

Author's Note: If you'd like a more thorough summary or some clarity on the DC Universe aspect of the story, please visit my website. The link can be found on my Profile page. Thanks for giving the story a chance! 


	2. Changes

**General Disclaimer**

Any and all content related specifically to _Criminal Minds_ is the property of the creator **Jeff Davis,** **The Mark Gordon Production Company, CBS Television Studios, and ABC Studios**. Any and all content related specifically to _DC Comics, The DC Universe, and/or The Birds of Prey-TV _is the property of **DC Entertainment, Warner Bros., and Time Warner**. Any and all content related specifically to _The X-files_ is the property of **Chris Carter**, **Ten Thirteen Productions**, and **20****th**** Century Fox Television**.

Be advised that this is not my Petri dish. I'm just wrecking someone else's experiment. For free. All original characters and plots, however, do belong to me, Nation of Chaos, and may not be reproduced without my permission. 

* * *

**Maximum Chaos**

By Nation of Chaos

Chapter Two – Changes 

On any given workday, Emily Prentiss could be found juggling her go-bag, purse, briefcase, and a cup of coffee as she made her way into the office. But as Emily could only be considered graceful while in slumber, there have been many times when the coffee did not survive the trip. So when she decided to add a small plant to her burdens, she knew chances were high she and gravity would once again come to blows. And sure enough, Emily was about ten yards from the elevator when she felt the knockout punch coming.

Unbeknownst to her, coming from the opposite direction of the parking garage, Rajin Scott saw one of the heavier bags start to slide off Emily's shoulder. He grimaced as the woman attempted to halt the skid. Coffee sloshed, and a tiny flowerpot flew through the air. He took a quick glance around at the empty garage then mentally reached out to "grab" the pot, halting its downward trajectory while simultaneously steadying her cup of coffee.

When she felt the jerk of the heavy bag slipping down her arm, Emily watched in sad defeat as she lost her grip on the cute, little cactus and winced as a splash of liquid seared her hand. She was silently berating herself for not making two trips when she felt a strange pressure seem to somehow wrap around her hand, holding her coffee upright. To her shock, Emily also discovered the plant she thought she'd clumsily destroyed was, in actuality, now hovering right in front of her, its crash to the concrete stopped by unknown means. In the few seconds it took her to realize how such a thing could be possible, Rajin caught up to her. She lifted her gaze from the plant to her new team member and offered up a beaming smile of gratitude. "Thank you, sir!" '_Thank you, thank you, __**thank**__ you, Assistant Director Rajin Scotty Scott savior, sir!'_ Emily continued pathetically to herself.

Rajin snorted in amusement at her effusive relief and plucked the flowerpot out of the air. "No problem," he replied kindly. "I'm just glad no one was around to witness." He winked and lifted the strap of her attaché case off her arm where it dangled around her elbow. "Because then I'd have had to get creative with the TK."

Emily smiled once again and rearranged her load, reaching out to take the case back only to get a headshake and a muttered "I've got this" as the two entered the elevator. Emily eyed the man standing next to her. Rajin Scott was sinfully good-looking. '_Did the BAU even employ unattractive agents?_' she couldn't help but wonder, thinking of all the members of her team. She couldn't wait to get Garcia's opinion, which she just knew would be entertaining. She continued to study the dark-haired man with the startling blue eyes, such a contrast to Hotch and Morgan. Up close, Scotty was much more imposing than he was in yesterday's briefing. Yet even though he was easily as big as Derek, he didn't seem to radiate the same intrinsic intensity. And as he slouched against the side of the car, Emily found his relaxed aura rather calming after the poor start to her day. _Then again_, she mentally conceded, _'his timely interference did prevent it from becoming much __**worse**__.'_ She considered his words from a couple of minutes ago and frowned. "TK?"

Rajin glanced down at Emily and smiled, his even teeth blindingly white, before pushing off the wall to put his back to the camera. "Telekinesis. I learned years ago that people looked at you funny if you started talking about it in public. So I just began calling it 'TK' in mixed company." He turned back toward the doors as the chime pinged, announcing their arrival. "Just habit now, I guess."

Emily nodded. "Smart." She led them off the elevator and over to the glass doors and gave Rajin a quiet "thanks" when he reached around her to pull one side open. Emily sensed him padding softly behind her as they crossed the mostly empty bullpen – it was still rather early – and watched him carefully place her attaché case and the plant on the corner of her desk once they finally reached it. "Oh, hey. Wait!" she called when he turned to head up to his newly relocated office.

Rajin stopped and immediately reversed course. He stared down at Emily curiously, an eyebrow hiked in question. His features softened when she held out the little cactus. "This is actually for you," she shyly murmured. "Sort of a 'welcome to the team' kind of thing even though you've obviously been around here much longer than the rest of us." Seeing the stunned look on his face, her nerves got the best of her. "I got you a cactus because I wasn't sure how green a thumb you have, and the cactus is a really hard plant to kill so—"

"Thanks," Rajin cut off her anxious babbling with a grin. "No one's ever given me a living gift before." When he reached out to take the pot from her hand his fingers brushed against hers, and a shockwave blasted through him that literally froze him in place. He basically just checked out completely. His eyes widened, and he stared blankly down at the plant, blood racing through his veins. As though through a tunnel, he heard Emily reply to his statement. But at the realization of what had just happened to him, a sub vocal growl sounded through his chest. Rajin's eyes then augmented, flickering to gold, his pupils vertically elongating. He immediately slammed his lids shut.

Unsure what was happening with the man, Emily brushed a hand lightly against his sleeve. "Sir?" She grew slightly concerned when he just continued to stand there, his head bowed and his eyes tightly closed, with what sounded very much like a growl emanating softly from his person. "Scotty?" Again, no response. She moved her hand up to his shoulder, grasping it gently. "Rajin?" she queried softly. That finally garnered a reaction. His head jerked up, golden eyes meeting her worried brown. She carefully hid her shock. It immediately became clear to her that he was having some sort of involuntary meta-physiological reaction. _Poor guy_. Her heart went out to him. She gently squeezed his shoulder again in gentle recognition.

Rajin shook off his momentary stupor, focusing on soft consonants and correct pronunciations instead. "I'm sorry, what…ah…what did you call me?" he stuttered.

Emily frowned. "Rajin." She tipped her head in confusion. "Was that wrong? You weren't answering, so I—I'm sorry." A blush of embarrassment bloomed across her cheeks. "I guess you don't like to be called that," she muttered.

"No," Rajin shook his head. "It's fine. Really." He gave her a funny look. "It's just that no one's ever…"

Realizing she still had her hand on his shoulder, Emily awkwardly jerked it back. "No one ever calls you that?"

Rajin again shook his head and dropped it back down to stare at the cactus sitting in his shaking hand. "No, they do. They just don't ever pronounce it right." He peered at the brunette through his thick lashes. "But you did." His golden eyes gazed at her intently. "Everyone always puts the emphasis on the first syllable and hardens the 'j'. It's refreshing when someone gets it right."

Emily clearly heard the curiosity and bemusement bleeding through his still rough, growl-induced tone. She sagged in relief. She hadn't offended him. She met his gaze head-on, thoroughly intrigued by the altered color of his eyes and the shape of his pupils. She now understood why Hotch called him a cat. But Emily made sure to keep her features even so as not to cause the man to feel in any way self-conscious about who he was. She distinctly recalled his agitation at the end of yesterday's meeting. "Well, you did introduce yourself by your complete name. I paid attention." She shrugged. "And I'm a linguist." Though he nodded, Emily still felt like something was amiss with him. He'd seemed fine before she handed him the plant. "Are you sure you're ok? If you don't like it, you won't hurt my feelings." She pointed to the flowerpot still clutched in his hand.

"I _do_ like it!" Rajin exclaimed softly, his body beginning to calm down the longer he stood speaking with Emily. He was still in shock, but he felt like he was finally able to move. He took a small step back. "I was serious, Agent Prentiss." He smiled in reassurance. "I've never received a living gift." He lifted it to give the prickly plant a closer look before grinning weakly over at Emily. "It's nice."

Emily smiled back as she watched his eyes flicker, returning to their regular icy blue. "Good," she said quietly. "And you can call me Emily." At his questioning look, she absently waved a hand. "If you're going to let me to call you 'Rajin,' you can certainly call me 'Emily,' right?"

Rajin's lips twitched. "Right." He lifted the plant again. "Thank you, Emily," he said, turning to once again head up to his office.

It didn't escape her notice that he never answered her question as to whether or not he was 'ok.' 

* * *

Rajin set the tiny cactus on the corner of his desk and collapsed into his chair, his legs unable to hold him any longer. He checked the clock on the wall before lifting the receiver off his desk phone. He quickly dialed a familiar number and waited to be connected to voice mail. "Hey," he began once he heard the tone. "It's Scotty. I know it's early and that I just saw you two days ago, but can you call me when you get in? I need to come down and talk to you about something pretty major." He sighed into the plastic. "You'll probably need to run the scans and tests again. Thanks…um…talk to you later. Bye." He dropped the receiver back into the cradle and ran his hands vigorously over his face.

'_And it only took twenty-two years. What the hell do I do now?'_

Knowing there wasn't anything he could do until Agent Scully got in, Rajin reached out and flicked on his PC. It was going to be a long morning. 

* * *

Two long hours later, Rajin stepped out of his office and over to Hotch's. He rapped his knuckles against the frame and stepped in when the other man looked up. "I've got to run down and see Scully. Briefing's at ten, yeah?"

Hotch frowned. He'd known Rajin Scott for years and had never seen him truly out-of-sorts, but the man standing in his office was decidedly disconcerted. "Everything ok?"

"Ye—no, well," Rajin sighed and propped his hands on his hips. He rolled his eyes. "Let's just say 'something's up' and leave it at that. If I'm right, it's not necessarily _bad_ – at least, it's not supposed to be – but it'll definitely be an issue professionally." He threw his hands in the air. "Not really anything I can talk about until after I get with Scully."

"Alright," Hotch nodded cautiously, brows still dipped in concern. "And yes. The briefing is at ten."

Rajin absently rubbed his fingers across his forehead. "I'll try to be back in time." With that, he hurried out of the office. He was knocking at SSA Dana Scully's door seven minutes later. 

* * *

The FBI's Chief Forensic Pathologist was also Rajin Scott's personal physician. His unique physiology and status within the Bureau itself made the care of his person a job for one with the highest of clearances. And Supervisory Special Agent Dana Scully, M.D. was tasked with the job shortly after the meta-human entered the Academy. At the time, she was one of several in a pool of pathologists and had some experience with a few of the Bureau's more _extra-ordinary _cases. An unusual gift for both deductive and _intuitive_ reasoning made her the most qualified and, therefore, perfect candidate to take on Scotty's care.

Having been in the office for over an hour before she checked her voicemail, a regrettable decision in hindsight, she anxiously drummed her fingers on the surface of her desk. She'd just seen the man two days ago, and he'd been _fine_. Well, visibly fine at least. But she had no reason to suspect his scans and blood work would turn up anything to the contrary. When he finally entered her office, her concern grew by leaps and bounds. He looked awful. At least to _her_ he did, though she doubted many others would be able to see the agitation and tension rolling off his body. "What happened?" she demanded after he entered and began pacing around the room.

He spun back to face her. "Can you take some more scans? Some blood? I'm…changed." He waved a hand frantically up by his ear, his gesture obviously meant to encompass his brain. He shot Scully an uneasy glance. "Something's different, I _know_ it. Like…I just _know_, you know? I feel it," he stammered restlessly.

Scully frowned. "I can once you tell me what actually happened, Scotty. It's not that I don't believe you, I'd just like to know what I'm looking for." She leaned back and motioned him toward one of the visitor's chairs.

Rajin sat and sighed heavily. "Well, just like I told you it was going to happen, I joined Hotch's team yesterday." His head rocked back and forth. "It went ok. I handed out the NDA's; they signed 'em. Then I told them about the meta-stuff, answered their questions." He shrugged. "Everything went fine."

"Then what?" Scully prompted when Rajin trailed off in deep thought.

The troubled man roughly scrubbed his hand through his hair. He took a deep breath and slowly exhaled. "I met up with Agent Prentiss in the parking garage early this morning," he finally continued quietly. "Her hands were full and she was about to drop some stuff, but I was twenty-five yards away." Rajin leaned forward to rest his elbows on his knees. "The deck was empty, so I…you know." He shrugged and waggled the fingers of one hand, absently catching a book as it flew off one of her bookshelves. When Scully's lips twitched in amusement and she gave him a nod of encouragement, Rajin sent the book back to its place. He then continued to describe his morning. When he got to the moment where Emily had handed him the plant, he blinked and then looked up at his doctor.

She watched with alarm as his eyes augmented. Having been his physician for well over a decade, and he being her only living patient, there was little about Rajin Scott's physiology she didn't know. And she knew with absolute certainty that only three things caused his meta-traits to intensify. Physical necessity, extreme emotion, or extreme pain. That he was augmenting now, in her office, was a disturbing sign to say the least.

"Our fingers brushed when she handed me the cactus, and I knew. I just knew. She's _mine_," he growled the last, his voice now a low rumble.

"What do you mean?" Scully asked carefully, stilling her features.

Rajin's face twisted in disbelief. "You've read my pride history, Scully! What do you _think_ I mean?" If possible, he grew even more agitated, and his eyes pooled with moisture. "What the hell am I supposed to do?"

Scully was shocked. Truly stunned. He was correct; she had read his entire pride history immediately after she became his primary physician. His only physician, really. And because she _was_ his only physician, she'd taken it upon herself to learn everything she could about his people, his _pride_. After all, he was from a large family of meta-humans whose primary traits were cat-like in nature. He really was born into a pride. So he'd lent her the only copy of his pride's history, and she'd read it cover to cover because it was, in essence, his _medical_ history. Absorbing the characteristics of his people, taking note of anything that might become an issue for him was necessary for her to provide to him the best care possible. She certainly hadn't anticipated this. "Agent Prentiss isn't meta-human," she stated dumbly, her incredulity momentarily suspending her ability to think rationally.

Rajin chuckled humorlessly. "Like that matters at all. Linking with 'normals' is no big deal. Only one of the pair need be of the pride to form a mate-link, remember? With everything that happened when I was a kid, I guess I just...I just didn't expect to ever have one." He groaned and pressed the base of his palms to his eyes. "God, this is going to be _such_ a freaking mess," he whispered brokenly. "It's not fair to her, D. And I don't think I'm going to be able to hide this from her for very long."

Scully sighed. She wanted to circle around her desk and sit next to him. Offer some type of comfort. But as long as he was borderline feral, she couldn't risk it. "Raj, look at me." She heard him sniffle and watched him swipe quickly at the tears that had broken free. He was extremely self-conscious when he finally lifted his head, a flush of mortification sweeping up his neck. His yellow eyes stared out at her, seemingly begging for help. She smiled gently at him. "It is what it is. There's no use worrying about something you can't change. All you can do is adapt to the situation. And because you're so special," she winked at him, pleased when she garnered a shy smile. "The Bureau will adapt with you."

Rajin sighed. "But how do I tell Emily?" he groaned. "She doesn't know me from Adam. She shouldn't have free will taken away from her."

He was right. It had hints of catastrophe written all over it. Scully shook her head. "You have some time before you need to. I think." She trolled her memory for the more problematic issues he was likely to face. "I hope." At his look of panic, she held up a hand in caution. "Let's not get ahead of ourselves. Let's get you rescanned. I'll draw more blood. Once we know what's changed, we can begin monitoring your progress. You should be ok for a while, but you'll need to tell Hotch immediately."

Rajin's eyes widened, and then he scowled. "Damn it. What happened to personal privacy?"

Scully's brows rose in amazement. "You're an alpha, meta-human male who is mate-linked to an FBI Agent who happens to also be one of your teammates. If she dies, you die. So you tell me what happened to personal privacy."

"Fuck."

In Scully's opinion, that thought summed things up nicely. 

* * *

As was his habit, Hotch was the last to enter the conference room. He sat down and looked up at J.J., ignoring the empty chair at the table. His eyes gave nothing away. "Let's go ahead and begin. Scotty will catch up to us later."

Taking the request for the order it really was, the communications liaison aimed her remote toward the flat screen in the corner. "Five people dead in Savannah, GA, no distinct physical similarities. But all of them were medical professionals…" 

* * *

Hotch had been back at his desk for perhaps ten minutes, when Scotty finally reappeared. If it were possible, Hotch thought he looked even more stressed out than he had earlier. He frowned when Scotty shut the door, only to cross the room and collapse on his office couch. "You going to tell me what's going on, or will I have to play Twenty Questions?"

Scotty glared at him balefully. "In a minute." He let his head fall against the back of the couch. "Tell me about the case?"

Hotch spent the next few minutes giving Scotty a quick rundown. "We leave in less than an hour," he said in conclusion.

Scotty nodded and then sat up straight. "Favor?"

"Sure," Hotch agreed.

"Can you make sure that at some point during this case I get to work one-on-one, at least a little bit, with each member of the team?" He sighed. "I think it'll help if they can see how I work and me them."

Hotch's brows rose. "That's actually a pretty good idea."

Scotty rolled his eyes. "Yes, I've been known to have them." He shook his head in exasperation. "Don't act like we just met, l'homme."

Hotch's lips twitched in amusement as he appraised his friend's demeanor with practiced eyes. "Ready to share now?"

"Not really," Scotty muttered. He stood up and began pacing in front of Hotch's desk. "We've known each other for years. You are without question my closest friend, of which I have precious few."

"I could say the same," Hotch stated softly.

Scotty made a couple more turns across the room before stopping directly in front of the desk. His mouth twisted into a grimace. "Well, trust me when I tell you that no matter how close we are, if I had any other option, I'd _never_ willingly share what I'm about to share." He pinned Hotch to his chair with a glare of intensity rarely seen in the typically affable man. "This is so incredibly personal, Aaron." He winced and shut his eyes as a wave of humiliation swept over him. "So fucking personal," he whispered.

Now far beyond concerned, Hotch rose from his chair. He wished he already had some type of idea what was coming so he'd know how to help the man. But based on what he was observing and on what Scotty was saying, he had a feeling that whatever was troubling him, it wasn't something Hotch could help with anyway.

Deciding to just bite the bullet, Scotty shoved his hands in his pockets and stared down toward the floor. "In my pride, there's a thing called a…uh…a 'mate-link.' It's a crucial aspect to our mating cycles." Scotty felt warmth wash over his ears, knew his skin was flushing crimson. "You've never heard anything about my cycle before because a) it's private and b) I had yet to meet my other half, so to speak. So it's never activated. Long story short, given what happened to my family all those years ago, I just figured I'd never have a mate."

Scotty looked up, and Hotch saw a confusing mix of wonder, agony, worry, and surprise cross over his friend's face. Hotch had a bad feeling about where this was going.

"But I do. There isn't any doubt about it. My mind recognized her the instant our hands brushed," Scotty murmured, his voice tinged with a hint of awe. "I really never thought it would happen. I mean…Christ, Hotch. I'm thirty-seven damn years old. It's ludicrous."

Hotch waited for the axe to fall.

Scotty took a deep breath and slowly wandered over to the window to survey the bullpen. His eyes immediately found who he sought, his frame relaxing slightly. "It's Emily," he quietly stated long moments later. "She hasn't the slightest clue, and I can't say anything to her." He sighed and shook his head. "It's a cluster."

It was as bad as he thought. But as Hotch sank back into his chair, he realized he didn't have enough information. It could actually be _worse_ than he thought. "What does this mean?"

Scotty looked over and saw the tension in the Unit Chief's frame. "As my doctor has so helpfully pointed out," he sarcastically explained. "I'm an alpha, meta-human male mate-linked to a teammate." He went back to staring out the window, keeping his eyes fixed on Emily. "Mate-linked alphas are incredibly protective, possessive, and territorial." His eyes flickered to the desk near the brunette's, and his gaze hardened. "From this point forward, she no longer gets partnered with Morgan. Maybe not even Reid. I'll have to let you know after I figure him out. I should know by the time we land. For now, only you, me, or J.J."

Hotch frowned. "Why? And how do you plan to explain that to them?"

"I don't." Scotty spun around, features wound bowstring tight. His rank clearly detected in his tone. "And neither do you. Just because they question your orders, doesn't mean you have to answer. You're the Unit Chief; you hand out the assignments. There should be no discussion." His stance softened somewhat. "There will come a time when I'll either tell Emily or she'll figure it out on her own. That time isn't now."

Hotch's brow rose in consternation, a headache already forming in his temple. "You haven't yet said 'why' she can no longer partner with Morgan. Though I can probably guess," he muttered.

Scotty snorted. "Yeah. The dude wants her." He peered through the blinds once again. "And unfortunately for him, she's not available. Even if she doesn't know it." He shrugged his broad shoulders. "Besides that, Hotch," he admitted. "I just don't trust him. Given his attitude yesterday, it's obvious Morgan has an issue with me. The meta in me isn't going to let that go on for long."

"And the fraternization?"

"A non-issue," Scotty murmured. "First, there isn't any fraternization to speak of yet. And there won't be for a while." He closed his eyes and rubbed his forehead in agitation. "She needs to get to know me." When he opened them again, he immediately looked for Emily on the floor below. "And I need to get to know her," he whispered. "Second, the Bureau won't have a choice. There will come a point where I can't be separated from her for extended periods of time. So if they press the issue, the Bureau won't lose just one agent. They'll lose two _and_ the Special Projects division." Scotty met Hotch's eyes, his gaze intent as he tried to make the other man understand. "This isn't something that's within my control, Aaron. It's hardwired in my damn DNA."

Hotch stared hard at Scotty. "I'm not comfortable with this."

Scotty acknowledged his concern with a commiserating nod. "I really didn't think you would be." 

TBC… 

* * *

_Again, thanks for reading!_


	3. Nothing to Prove

**General Disclaimer**

Any and all content related specifically to _Criminal Minds_ is the property of the creator **Jeff Davis,** **The Mark Gordon Production Company, CBS Television Studios, and ABC Studios**. Any and all content related specifically to _DC Comics, The DC Universe, and/or The Birds of Prey-TV _is the property of **DC Entertainment, Warner Bros., and Time Warner**. Any and all content related specifically to _The X-files_ is the property of **Chris Carter**, **Ten Thirteen Productions**, and **20****th**** Century Fox Television**.

Be advised that this is not my Petri dish. I'm just wrecking someone else's experiment. For free. All original characters and plots, however, do belong to me, Nation of Chaos, and may not be reproduced without my permission.

* * *

**Maximum Chaos**

By Nation of Chaos

Chapter Three – Nothing to Prove

Rajin silently followed Hotch onto the plane and immediately surveyed the seating arrangements as he entered the cabin. To his relief, he saw Morgan sitting across from Reid on one side, Emily and J.J. across from one another on the other. When Hotch took the seat next to J.J. after stowing his go-bag, he made a mental note to later thank the man. Even though his friend was obviously uncomfortable about the nature of Rajin's recent physiological changes, he knew Hotch's seat selection was a conscious choice made solely for Rajin's benefit.

He stood next to the table and leaned down slightly in Emily's direction. "Do you mind if I sit here," he indicated the seat right beside the dark-haired woman.

Emily looked up from her copy of the case file, her brow furrowed in concentration. It took her a second to realize she was being addressed. "Uh, no, of course not." She smiled up at Rajin. "Have a seat." She turned back to her file, flipping slowly through crime scene photos.

Rajin slid into the seat, and his body immediately relaxed as he breathed in Emily's perfume. His enhanced olfactory abilities allowed him to easily take in the underlying scent that was simply Emily herself. Unbeknownst to him, it was a scent his brain was busy imprinting deep within its membranes. For the first time since early this morning, he felt a moderate amount of calm settle over his person.

J.J. slid a manila folder across the table. "Here's your copy of the case file," her kind eyes meeting his for a moment. "He's working fast."

Rajin nodded. "Thank you." He spent the next twenty minutes reading through the file, finally getting a look at the same crime scene photos he'd seen Emily poring over moments ago. Ideas and questions were rapidly flitting through his mind by the time the plane leveled out and Hotch began the team's brainstorming session.

* * *

Nearly nine hours later, it was an exhausted BAU team which reconvened at the police station. Even after having visited each of the crime scenes and most of the victims' families, they felt they were no closer to figuring out just what made their unsub tick. The lead detective left them alone, off to follow up on the neighborhood canvasses his men had completed earlier in the day. Prentiss and Reid walked up to the evidence board and stared at it intently, hoping to uncover any hidden details. J.J. was on the phone with yet another local television station while Hotch and Morgan debated the meaning behind the choosing of only medical professionals as victims. Scotty stood alone in a corner of the conference room with a host of crime scene photos still in hand, a deep furrow in his brow as he flipped through them over and over again.

"It's like he was wronged by the entire health care industry or something," Morgan griped.

Emily shook her head. "I don't buy that. A gynecologist, a nurse, a cardiologist, an anesthesiologist, and a general practitioner. How is a man wronged by a gynecologist?"

Hotch frowned. "Garcia found no patient commonality among them anyway. It's not as simple as revenge; it's less personal than that."

"It doesn't help that he seems to have no signature," murmured Reid.

"Oh, but he does," Scotty mumbled from the corner. He moved to the table and grabbed a red marker. With quick and efficient movements, he set out a single image from each crime scene and circled the left hand of each of their victims. "This has been bugging me for hours."

Morgan leaned over the table. "I'm not seeing it."

"Me either." Reid peered at the photos in curiosity.

Emily moved to stand next to Rajin. She studied the circled body parts for a minute, trying to see what Rajin saw. "The ring fingers?" She looked up at Scotty. "Wow." The distinctions were so minute, it was no wonder the rest of them had missed it.

The others all frowned and leaned in even further.

"Huh." Reid picked one up for a closer inspection. "Couldn't that just be a byproduct of rigor?"

"Rigor resulting in the same exact positioning in all five bodies?" Scotty asked skeptically. "When's the last time that happened?"

"Good point," Reid admitted.

Hotch looked over the photos one more time. "This changes the profile. The question is…how?"

The team bickered back and forth for another half hour in an attempt to determine whether or not the newly discovered signature made the crimes more personal. The overall consensus was to the affirmative which just led to more questions.

"And what are these bruises all of them have right below the knee?" J.J. looked up from the M.E.'s report on the last victim. "What's that about?"

Emily nodded. "Yeah, it's the only mark on each of them besides that big hole in the heart."

"Could have something to do with the initial attack or how he subdues them," Hotch considered.

Morgan's brow rose in doubt. "He'd have to be a midget."

Scotty frowned. "Not necessarily." He gazed thoughtfully down at an image of the bruising on one of the victims. "And the wound angle wouldn't match."

Emily looked at the man closely, could practically see the gears turning in his head. "What are you thinking?" she queried softly.

"Mmm?" Scotty blinked and lifted clear blue eyes to meet Emily's. "Oh, uh…" he trailed off without answering. Instead, he pulled his cell phone off his belt and quickly pressed a single key to speed dial a number. He placed the phone on speaker and set it on the table when it was answered by a woman who oozed familiarity with their new team member. _"Hey, pretty boy."_

Rajin's lips twitched in amusement. "Hey, B. How are you?"

"_Uh huh. I know that voice; what's up?"_

"I can't call just to say 'hi'?"

"_You usually call Helena when you want to do that. What's on your mind, Raj?"_

Scotty smirked down at the phone. "You caught me. Oh, and you're on speaker if you couldn't tell. I called because I have a hypothetical for you."

"_Ok, hit me."_ She sounded completely unfazed to the listeners in the conference room, as though it were commonplace for an Assistant Director for the FBI to call her up and ask her to hypothesize on a case. And for all they knew, it was.

The agents all looked at each other with the same two questions in mind. _Who is he talking to and why?_ All except Hotch, whose eyebrows sat high on his forehead as he nodded at Scotty in appreciation of his foresight.

"If you were going to kill someone," Scotty began with complete seriousness in his tone, "in his or her home with a single downward stab wound to the heart, a) how would you get in and b) how would you do it? You specifically, Babs," he stressed the last.

"_Ah." _A short pause._ "I'm doing this alone?"_

Scotty looked at Hotch and shrugged. Hotch just shrugged back. "Most likely, yeah," Scotty affirmed.

"_Does this person know me, or is he or she a stranger?"_

Scotty canvassed the room, looking for opinions. He sighed at the ambivalent responses he received from his fellow agents. "We just don't know enough. Based on the variety of victim and the lack of any obvious connection between them, I'd lean toward them being strangers. But it's just a guess."

"_Alright. Well, if I know them, the getting in is easy. 'Hey, how are you?' followed by some sort of excuse for dropping by."_

Even though he had no idea who was speaking, Morgan found himself nodding in agreement.

"_If they don't know me, I'd use a ruse. It'd certainly be easy enough in my situation."_

Hotch and Scotty both nodded in acknowledgement, elevating curiosity in the other agents.

"_Then it's just a matter of getting within reach. An Eskrima stick to the knee would drop them like a rock. Another to the side of the head to incapacitate them, then I'd be able to stab them in the heart with no impediment."_

"No head wounds on the bodies. In fact, there are no defensive wounds whatsoever. Just the bruising right below the knee and the single stab wound to the heart." Scotty stared intently down at the phone.

"_Mmm, in that case, I'd have to stab them immediately after I took out the knee because they would __**still**__ have the physical advantage if I didn't incapacitate them another way. So, I'd have to be both ambidextrous and extremely fit in order to swing the stick and the knife with enough power to be effective."_

"Which you are," Hotch murmured loud enough to be heard by the woman on the other end of the line.

"_Hello, Aaron. How are you?"_

"Hello, Barbara. Busy as usual. How have you been?"

"_Things have been really great around here lately, a pleasant change. So was any of that helpful?"_

"Extremely. Thanks for playing along."

"_Always happy to help."_

Scotty grabbed the phone off the table. "Thanks, B. Give Hel my best. Love you."

"_I will. Love you, too. Bye."_

Scotty looked up to a host of differing expressions on his teammates' faces. It was Morgan who stepped up.

"Who was that, and why was it 'extremely' helpful?" he asked, forehead wrinkled in confusion.

Scotty placed his phone back on his hip, leaned back against the wall, and crossed his arms over his chest. "My cousin's partner. It was helpful because she's a paraplegic."

"Eskrima?" Emily stared at Scotty. It was Reid who answered.

"A martial art from the Philippines which emphasizes weapon-based fighting disciplines typically using sticks or improvised weapons." Reid's face became animated. "It's actually the perfect martial art for someone who is wheelchair-bound, provided they study it with commitment, as a person only truly needs upper body strength to excel at it."

Morgan rubbed a hand over his bald head. "Are we now thinking this guy is in a wheelchair?"

"Not necessarily." Scotty shook his head thoughtfully. "It's just another possibility to consider."

Emily snorted. "It makes more sense than him being a midget."

* * *

As it turned out, the unsub – Hugh Dannon – _was _in a wheelchair. It just wasn't by necessity, the chair merely being a part of his ruse. Unfortunately, the team didn't discover this until they kicked in the doors to his house three days, and one more victim, later. Hotch, Morgan, and Prentiss at the front; Scotty, Reid and J.J. at the back.

Reid would later recount to the entire team everything that happened, every minute detail, in real time, all forty-five seconds of it. For Scotty and J.J., events seem to unfold in slow motion, seemingly lasting forever. As Hotch counted down in his ear, Scotty kicked in the back door and swept right into the cramped kitchen; Reid was directly behind him and moving left. It was J.J. who ended up with the best view as she trailed behind the both of them.

Dannon, fleeing the front room when Morgan kicked in the door, ran through the dining room and headed for the kitchen. It was at the same moment Reid was approaching that particular entry into the kitchen and Scotty was heading for the one on the right.

The yells came on top of one another as Dannon barreled into the room and directly into Reid. J.J. hollered, "Knife!" at the same time Reid shouted, "FBI!" as he was taken to the ground, his weapon skidding out of reach. The kitchen was far too tiny for the four people now taking up space in it, so neither J.J. nor Scotty could get a clear shot. Nor could they rush Dannon because he had his blade aimed at the trapped agent beneath him. As Dannon prepared to plunge the knife he was gripping into Reid's unprotected lower abdomen, Scotty quickly threw up a hand, narrowed his eyes, and _focused_. The knife tip brushed against Reid's shirt but could not budge so much as a millimeter further against the strength of Scotty's mind. Unfortunately, Scotty was so focused on the knife in Dannon's right hand he was unable to do anything with the one in the aggressor's left. Dannon thrust viciously upward and neatly tore into Scotty's right triceps. He felt the slice down his arm, deep and long, and allowed the pain to wash over him. It triggered the feral meta-human within, and he let out an angry growl. With a roar, he slammed his augmented eyes closed and mentally shoved the attacker away from Reid and against the wall. With a clatter against the warped linoleum, both blades fell from Dannon's hands when he found himself pinned and completely immobile even though no one was touching him.

Hotch, Morgan and Prentiss swept into the kitchen from opposite directions, weapons raised as they stopped in the doorways. Hotch quickly assessed the situation and holstered his pistol before approaching. Seconds later, their unsub was cuffed and being hauled away by Morgan. "Go," Hotch ordered Scotty, who still stood in the middle of the kitchen with his eyes closed.

J.J. had immediately gone to Reid as soon as Scotty had pulled Dannon away, so it was only Emily and Hotch who caught glimpses of the meta-human's yellow eyes as Scotty ran from the house. Minutes later, after making sure Reid was unharmed, Hotch, Emily, and Reid began detailing the house of a serial killer. After turning Dannon over to the local authorities outside, Morgan joined them.

* * *

It was a little over an hour later that the team began to gather back together outside the house. J.J., having just left the media in the hands of the locals, came across Scotty – still in his vest – sitting between the team's two SUV's, leaning up against the front tire of the one on the left. His head was tipped back, elbows propped on his raised knees. As she drew nearer, J.J. noticed blood running freely down the back of his right arm, dripping steadily off his elbow and on to the ground beside him. When she was close enough, she knelt down and softly called his name. "Scotty?"

His eyes shot open and a growl escaped from low in his chest. A growl which only grew in ferocity when she made to move closer. It effectively pinned her in place.

To say she was unnerved by the sight of his altered eyes and the sound of his growl was to minimize her reaction. She was, quite simply, freaked. Memories of a barn full of rabid dogs flashed through her mind as, with a slightly shaking hand, J.J. gestured toward Scotty's arm. "You're hurt, Scotty," she pointed out gently, as though to a frightened animal. '_Ironically, not far off the mark'_ she thought to herself. "We need to get someone to look at you."

Scotty only growled louder in reply. It was enough to frighten J.J. into quickly backing down. She stood slowly and then carefully backed away. When she reached the rear of the Tahoe, she turned and hurried over to the rest of her teammates.

Emily saw her first. "Hey, Jayje, you ok?" she asked the visibly shaken agent.

J.J. nodded. "Yeah. It's umm…" she frowned at Hotch. "It's…uh…Scotty. He's…" she pointed vaguely over her shoulder, waving a hand in agitation.

Morgan's body tensed in reaction. "What did he do to you?" he asked angrily. He, too, could see that J.J. wasn't as unaffected as she wanted everyone to think. His distrust had him leaping to conclusions.

Hotch frowned at Morgan. "Is he still feral?" he asked J.J., recognizing her demeanor for what it was.

"Yeah," she answered Hotch. She lifted a brow at Morgan's aggressive stance. "He didn't _do_ anything," she muttered pointedly. J.J. turned back to the others, the worry in her voice easy for them to hear. "He's bleeding pretty badly, but I couldn't get near him." She peered up at Hotch. "Is that normal for him? If he's injured, I mean."

Hotch nodded. "It can be a bit tricky treating him because he obviously can't be seen by the paramedics while he's feral. I had hoped he would've calmed down by now." He looked around the circle of agents, eyebrows raised in question, finally landing on Prentiss.

Emily shrugged and stepped forward. "I'm a cat-person; let me try."

"What?" Morgan protectively blocked her path when she moved to walk away. "Are you insane?" He stared incredulously at the Unit Chief. "Hotch! Are you seriously going to send Emily off to corner a _wounded_, out-of-control, wild animal?"

That struck Emily as extremely callous and caused a burst of anger to run through her. "He's a _man_, Derek. A _teammate_. And he's hurt. Don't be an ass; now _move_." She tried pushing him to the side, but he wouldn't budge.

"Stand down, Morgan!" Hotch ordered. "No one said anything about him being out of control." He walked over to stand by Emily. "He won't hurt Prentiss." With a hand to her back, he urged Emily to step around Derek. As he passed by him, Hotch glared at Morgan. "Whatever meta bias you have, you need to get it under control quickly. There's no room for it on this team. Do I make myself clear?" he demanded, speaking softly enough so only Morgan and Emily heard him. He didn't bother waiting for a reply, simply urged Prentiss to hasten her pace.

Emily stopped at the rear of the SUV, opened it and removed one of the first-aid kits. She then slammed the door shut and rounded the truck with Hotch, coming upon the same scene J.J. had encountered just minutes before. Only this time, Scotty was growling well before they got near. Hotch immediately came to a halt. Emily took three more steps before realizing he was no longer with her. She turned back, a brow hiked in question.

"Trust me," Hotch stated wryly. "He's not going to like it if I go over there with you." Remembering Rajin's words from a few days ago, _'Mate-linked alphas are incredibly protective, possessive, and territorial,'_ Hotch simultaneously blessed and cursed the man for sharing with him the status Emily now held in Rajin's life. _Definitely not something I want to get in the middle of._ With the knowledge he did possess, he could be reasonably certain Emily would, in fact, get close enough to Rajin to help him. He just couldn't explain any of that to anyone else. Most especially…Emily herself. He stepped back and pulled out his phone to call Scully.

Emily just shrugged and moved closer to her 'patient.' She was about three feet away from Rajin when the growling strangely began to lessen in intensity. Emily knelt down in front of him and winced at the amount of blood already pooled next to him. "Rajin," she murmured softly, keeping her hands to herself for the moment. When his eyes opened and met hers, she smiled at him gently. "Hey there."

Rajin just stared back, a soft growl continuing to emanate from his chest.

"I need to apply pressure to your arm in order to slow the bleeding." Emily cocked her head. "Can you understand what I'm saying?"

Rajin couldn't really speak; he wasn't nearly calm enough for anything other than his native tongue. '_I trust you,'_ he wanted to say. All he could offer was a jerk of his head, a tense nod, hoping she'd understand him.

And Emily did understand. _So speaking is out, but if I stick to yes/no questions we should be ok._ She opened up the first-aid kit and pulled out a handful of gauze pads. She looked through the other compartments, searching fruitlessly for something more substantial. He was bleeding too freely for the gauze to be of any use. She leaned in slightly and to the left so she could get a better look at the damage, making sure to keep her movements slow and deliberate. She hissed slightly when she saw how deep the slice appeared to be, how far down his arm it went. It was at least five inches long.

She leaned back and turned toward her boss. "Hey, Hotch!" she called, only to have to quickly turn back when Rajin emitted a ferocious howl of protest. "Hey, hey," she soothed. She had no idea what had set him off. '_The turning away or the yelling?'_ she asked herself. "It's ok." She cautiously placed a hand on his leg, squeezing it in comfort. Surprisingly, her touch seemed to calm him down somewhat. Without turning her head this time, and making sure to maintain steady eye contact with Rajin, Emily raised her voice only slightly above normal. "I need some towels. It's a pretty bad slice. And it's definitely going to need stitches. A lot of stitches." She squeezed Rajin's leg again, absently rubbing her hand up and down.

The two of them sat there staring at one another. Emily in silence. Rajin continuing to growl softly. A minute passed before Hotch approached the pair. Emily felt the leg beneath her hand stiffen in tension as Rajin whipped his head to the right, releasing a dangerous growl of warning. This one was noticeably different from the others, more hostile in intent even to Emily's untrained ears. Out of the corner of her eye, Emily saw Hotch freeze in place. Rather than move away, as one might think was the obvious thing to do, Emily instinctively scooted closer to Rajin. Her thigh now rested against his. She ducked her head to try and catch the man's eyes. "Hey," she murmured, squeezing his leg again, this time in order to take his attention away from Hotch. "It's ok. He has something I need in order to help you."

'_I don't care! You're __**mine**__!'_ he wanted to roar but couldn't. All he could do was continue to growl.

Emily could see the turmoil in his altered eyes. She narrowed her own and stared hard at Rajin. "You need to either let him come close enough to hand me the towels, or you need to let me up to go get them," she stated bluntly, leaving no room for equivocation. Rajin didn't like either of those options, she could tell from his clenched jaw and squinting glare. "Choose," she demanded. When he gave no indication either way, Emily rose to her feet.

When Rajin saw Emily start to move away from him, he let loose a sharp cry of pain. What Emily had no way of knowing was that the pain he was vocalizing was mental and emotional rather than the physical pain of his knife wound. A pain inflicted only when it appeared as though she was abandoning him.

Tears pricked at Emily's eyes at the tortured, agonizing cry, and she immediately dropped back down beside Rajin. _Poor guy. Why is he acting this way? Is this normal?_ She moved her hand back to his leg and reached up to run the other through his hair in sympathy, not knowing what else to do for him. "Let me help you," she whispered. "Please."

Meanwhile, Hotch was busy characterizing the nature of Rajin's behavior. This was vastly different from how the meta had behaved the last time Hotch had worked closely with him. Previously, he was hostile when injured, yes. It was part of his feral nature. But this? This was a near-total dependence upon Emily that more than concerned him. Hotch was beginning to understand the true nature of the 'mate-link.' It was clear the impact was almost totally on Rajin's side, but if the man was to be believed (and Hotch had no reason to doubt him), Emily would eventually come to depend upon Rajin, as well. At least to a certain extent.

It was a damn nightmare.

Hotch watched Emily subconsciously soothe the savage beast. While she was engaged with that, he opened the SUV and removed an evidence bag. He quickly dropped the towels inside and moved back to stand where he could be seen. "Prentiss," he called quietly.

Emily looked over her shoulder and saw Hotch hold up an evidence bag. Eyes brightening in appreciation, she nodded and waited for him to toss the bag over. His aim was true, and the bag bounced once before landing at her side. Without moving away from Rajin's hip, she pulled it onto her lap and ripped it open. Towels in hand, she leaned forward to wrap one around the back of his arm.

When Hotch saw this, he stepped back to the rear of the vehicle. He motioned for J.J. to join him. When she arrived, he instructed her to track down the EMT's and keep them on ice. When she jogged away, he turned back to keep his eye on Rajin and Emily.

It didn't take long for the towel to become completely soaked with Rajin's blood. Emily sighed, and leaned in to the man. "You need to raise your arm, ok? Just grab the back of your neck with your right hand." She held on as Rajin did so without protest. She caught the grimace as it crossed his features. "I know it hurts, but you need to keep it elevated," she spoke gently. She wrapped a second towel around the first. "Ok, big guy," she said with a smile when his eyes again met hers. "This needs stitches. Do you understand that?"

Rajin frowned and nodded. He lifted his free hand and pointed at Emily.

"Ha!" she barked in disbelief. "Not a chance, pal." When the volume of Rajin's growl increased at her response, Emily courageously brought a hand up to cup Rajin's jaw. "Hey, focus on me for a second," she demanded quietly. When he did, she stared at him seriously. "I need you to calm down, ok?" Having her hand on his face wasn't nearly as strange to Emily as she felt it should've been. Making a mental note to think about that later, Emily dropped the professional barrier she'd been trying to maintain since she first knelt beside him. "I can't stitch you, sweetie," she murmured, her natural empathy giving rise to her softer side. Seeing the protest form in his eyes, Emily shook her head. "No. I don't have the necessary skill to do that."

She grabbed another towel and tied it around the first two, tucking the ends underneath so as to free both hands. Once that was done, she stared at Rajin in silence for a moment. Coming to a decision, she pushed down on his knees to lower them and then lifted her right leg in order to straddle his lap. She smirked up at him. "Don't get any ideas!" she teased, pointing a playful finger at his face as she settled across his thighs.

Rajin watched Emily with wide, yellow eyes, his growl faltering for a moment at her sudden movement. He cocked his head curiously when she started pulling at the velco of his vest. She had it off in seconds.

Emily smiled and placed one hand on his chest and the other on his stomach. Taking a deep breath, she looked intently up at Rajin before asking him to do the same. "I want you to take a deep breath and focus on only moving the hand I have on your stomach when you do. The one on your chest needs to remain still, alright? No TK!" she joked, pleased when she finally saw his eyes crinkle in humor. "Come on," she encouraged softly. "I'll breathe with you."

And so it went for many minutes. Rajin breathed in, lifting Emily's hand as he filled his diaphragm with air. It was an intense time between the two as they continued to stare at one another while breathing in sync. Relief washed over Emily when she finally saw his eyes flicker back to blue. "Better?"

Rajin nodded and looked away, a flush of humiliation sweeping up his neck.

"There's no need for that," Emily whispered, knowing exactly why he was blushing. "You are who you are, and there's no need to be ashamed about it. You didn't hurt anyone or cause any damage."

"I scared J.J.," he muttered, finally able to speak.

Emily smiled sadly as he berated himself. "And though she'll probably find it completely unnecessary, you can apologize for it."

Rajin just sighed and nodded again.

With nothing left to say for the moment, Emily used Rajin's chest for leverage and pushed off of him. She then held out a hand to help pull him off the ground and walked with him over to the ambulance.

Hotch watched them go, unsure whether to applaud or groan.

* * *

Morgan was packing the last of the files into a box when Hotch joined him in the conference room of the police station. "Sort yourself out?" the team leader questioned.

Morgan sighed and spun around. He leaned back to rest both hands against the table and stared at Hotch. _Why can't anyone else see what I see in this guy?_ "You know respect has to be earned, Hotch."

"Maybe," Hotch agreed softly. "But if nothing else, he deserves to have you respect his _title_ even if you can't yet respect the man. You've been borderline insubordinate this entire week."

"Well, what the hell was he trying to prove?" Derek muttered. "Showing off with the signature, calling his damn family. And then he had to whip out his damn 'superpowers' at the first opportunity? You saw what the aftermath of that whole deal became. It just stresses everyone out."

Hotch's eyebrows rose in disbelief. "You would rather Reid have gotten stabbed?" He shook his head. "Have you even spoken with him or J.J. about what happened in that kitchen?" At Morgan's mutinous look, he sighed. "I'll take that as a 'no.' According to the both of them, had _anyone_ other than Scotty been in that kitchen, Reid would've been gutted."

"There's no way they could possibly know that," Morgan scoffed.

"Yes, there is." Hotch crossed his arms over his chest and leaned against the doorframe. "From the moment Dannon landed on him, the knife was against Reid's belly." Having about reached the limits of his patience with regards to Derek Morgan's trust issues, Hotch stood up straight. "Let me be clear here, Derek. Scotty's been profiling humans and meta-humans since long before you were even aware of what profiling was. Rajin Scott has _nothing_ to prove to _anyone_. The sooner you learn that, the easier this will become for the rest of us. Because, I'm telling you right now, _you_ are the only one stressing out the others." With that, Hotch turned and left the room, leaving Morgan alone with his prejudice.

TBC…

* * *

_Thanks for reading!_


	4. Taking Care

**General Disclaimer**

Any and all content related specifically to _Criminal Minds_ is the property of the creator **Jeff Davis,** **The Mark Gordon Production Company, CBS Television Studios, and ABC Studios**. Any and all content related specifically to _DC Comics, The DC Universe, and/or The Birds of Prey-TV _is the property of **DC Entertainment, Warner Bros., and Time Warner**. Any and all content related specifically to _The X-files_ is the property of **Chris Carter**, **Ten Thirteen Productions**, and **20****th**** Century Fox Television**.

Be advised that this is not my Petri dish. I'm just wrecking someone else's experiment. For free. All original characters and plots, however, do belong to me, Nation of Chaos, and may not be reproduced without my permission.

* * *

**Maximum Chaos**

By Nation of Chaos

Chapter Four – Taking Care

"You received a summons, too?" J.J. smirked at Emily when they both arrived at Garcia's Den of Inquisition at the same time.

Emily swallowed a sip of coffee from the extra-large mug in her hand and chuckled. "Of course. She's so hungry for gossip on the 'new guy'," Emily threw her free hand up to make air quotes. "She's probably ready to chew the heads off some of her troll dolls."

J.J. giggled and pushed open the door.

Penelope Garcia spun around and pointed a finger at the two women walking in. "This is what you get for not sharing while you were away!"

Emily arched a brow. "We were working, PG. Give us a break."

"Uh huh. You had to take a break at some point," she eschewed dramatically, leaning back and crossing her arms as she glared.

J.J. smiled a little at Garcia's theatrics and collapsed into the other chair in the room while Emily leaned against the corner of the table. "Ask your questions, my Liege," J.J. teased.

Quickly forgetting her momentary pique, Garcia's eyes widened with anticipation. "What's he like up close and personal? Did he do anything freaky? Is he as awesome at his job as the rumors say he is?"

J.J.'s lips twitched as she met Emily's eyes over her friend's head. "He who, Pen?" she tormented the analyst when, in fact, she knew _exactly_ who Garcia was talking about.

Penelope rolled her eyes. "Assistant Director Dark and Dreamy!"

Emily choked and began coughing up her coffee.

Twenty minutes later, Garcia seemed mostly satisfied with their answers. "So…the consensus is what? He's a good fit?"

With a quick glance at Emily, J.J. nodded. "I think so. He's smart, funny, and really interesting."

"Mmmhmm," Emily agreed. "He has such a different way of looking at things. It's fascinating."

"Different how?" Garcia gave her mouse a wee push and an image of the man appeared on one of her screens.

Emily chuckled lightly as Garcia practically drooled over the image on the wall. "Different in that he sees things from a meta-perspective. I can't really explain it. It's just obvious he comes from a different angle."

"Yeah," J.J. smirked. "Like when Morgan made that crack about the unsub not being able to walk through walls."

Emily snorted. "I thought he was going to come unglued."

"Hey!" Penelope chided. "Some of us weren't there, so…details please." She batted her eyelashes in expectation.

J.J. cleared her throat and tried unsuccessfully to hide her grin at both the memory and Garcia's facial expressions. "Well…the day we got there, you know we went to all the crime scenes. We split up for the first four but came back together as a group at the last. The general consensus was that the victims were letting the unsub into their homes. And at one point, Morgan says something like 'it's not like the guy walked through the damn walls.' The look on Derek's face was priceless when Scotty answered."

"What did he say?"

Emily smiled as she looked up at the ceiling, trying to recall Scotty's exact words. "He said, 'Don't be too sure of that, Agent Morgan. We don't yet have a DNA report on the fellow.' Morgan looked like he'd just sucked on a lemon."

Garcia narrowed her gaze as she focused on the image of Rajin Scott on her wall. "Hmm – well, despite my Love Muffin's issues with the man, A.D. Scotty the Hottie is certainly a fine specimen. At least from the neck up. I'm sure my Derek still has him beat in the muscles department."

"I wouldn't be too sure about that," Emily murmured.

Both Garcia and J.J. rounded on the brunette. "What?"

"Oh, please." She rolled her eyes. "The man has guns. J.J., you saw him in short-sleeves as often as I did." At J.J.'s nod of agreement, Emily then went on to describe how she got Rajin to calm down enough to get medical treatment. "So, yeah. I had my hands on his chest and abs. There's definitely a six-pack under those shirts, ladies."

All three of the women looked back up at the image of Scotty on Garcia's screen. It took a minute for Emily to turn away from those clear blue eyes. _Pretty boy, indeed._

* * *

The visit with Penelope and J.J. flashed through Emily's mind as she surreptitiously eyed the topic of their early morning conversation. It appeared to her that although he was obviously paying attention during the meeting, Rajin also seemed distracted. She wondered what was bothering him and hoped it wasn't any lingering embarrassment from the night before last. But like she did for the others, she vowed to just keep her eye on him. If needed, she'd figure out a way to make him see there was no need for him to be self-conscious.

With that thought, Emily snuck a glance over toward Morgan and frowned slightly. _Of course, Rajin would feel less self-conscious if Derek would get his head out of his ass._ She hated to think badly of him, because she truly did like him, but Derek Morgan was being a hard-headed, first-rate jerk. To make matters worse, there wasn't even any obvious reason for it. Again recalling her morning conversation with her girlfriends, Emily had to wonder about Morgan's recent attitude. When even Garcia couldn't shed any light on it, one had to worry that the problem wasn't going to resolve itself any time soon.

The daily briefing concluded a little over an hour later. Rajin escaped quickly, though certainly not rudely. The man was, however, an assistant director with a division still to run. Unfortunately, he also had an appointment with Scully to discuss the results of his latest tests and brain scans. So after hastily dumping his notes and files off in his office, Rajin headed for the elevator.

Emily watched with concern when Rajin hurried out the door at meeting's end. Her brow furrowed slightly, and her gaze met Hotch's when she turned back to the table to gather her own notes and files. They were the only two left in the room. "Is he ok?" she asked quietly, keeping her eyes on the table.

Hotch debated how to answer her question but then remembered he really didn't want to get involved in Raj's personal business any more than was necessary. Yes, the man was his closest friend, but both Raj and Hotch were incredibly private people. So beyond lending an ear and/or helping out when needed, they tended to respect the personal boundaries each had established years ago. With this in mind, there was really only one answer he could give Prentiss. "He will be."

Prentiss nodded before moving to head back to her desk. Hotch stopped her just as she reached the door.

"There is something you could do for him." Against his better judgment, Hotch decided to step into Raj's business in one very small way. After witnessing Prentiss' interactions with Rajin the other night, he knew Raj was going to _have_ to say something to her about becoming his personal…well…medic, for lack of a better term…when they were on the road. And if he knew anything about the man it was that, in a less-than-professional setting, Raj was painfully insecure about his differences. So Hotch knew the discussion was going to be extremely difficult for him. He had the opportunity right now to make it a little less so, and he would be, perhaps, the world's worst friend – let alone Unit Chief – if he didn't at least make the attempt.

Emily spun around and leaned against the doorframe. "What's that?" she replied. Her expression, while cautious, was also open and willing.

Hotch approached the door, peering out to make sure no one would hear him. "Be open-minded," he murmured softly, "when he finally gets up the nerve to ask you to learn how to suture." With a whispered "excuse me," he quickly slipped by her rather startled form and rushed down to his office.

* * *

Rajin stared over at the two flat screens in confusion. "What am I looking at?" he muttered before glancing at Scully with his brows dipped low in frustration.

"That," Scully began, shaking her head in amazement, "is your brain activity now compared to before. And actually, it may be even higher than what we're seeing – after what happened in Savannah." She blinked up at the flashing colors dominating a quarter of his Limbic System, including all of his Hypothalamus, as well as a large portion of his Neocortex – primarily in the Parietal and Temporal Lobes. She gestured to the screen on the left. "That one is pre-E."

Rajin rolled his eyes at the doctor. "Pre-E" meant pre-_Emily_ in terms of his physiology. Scully's sense of humor was often as dry as the Sahara. "Well, it's definitely not as colorful."

Scully chuckled lightly and pointed to two of the brightest areas – the Parietal and Temporal Lobes. "See this? It's one of the areas of your brain affected by the Meta-Gene. It's slightly larger and far more active than the average human." She looked up at Rajin and raised a brow. "It's what's primarily responsible for the TK."

"Ah." Rajin leaned in closer to the screen and nodded.

"That area has always tested at higher activity levels than normal. It isn't, however, the area that's the most altered right now," Scully continued. She watched Rajin's head swivel back and forth as he attempted to figure out where the differences were. She waited.

"Here," Rajin pointed. "It's more active here. What's this do?"

"Yep." The redhead patted her patient on the back. "That's what I wanted to talk to you about." She waited for his attention to turn from the screen back to her before explaining further. "That's your Hypothalamus." She moved around to sit down at her desk and motioned for him to take one of the chairs in front of it. "It controls a ton of bodily functions including, but not limited to, your temperature, hunger, thirst, sleeping patterns, your basic metabolism, mood and behavior, and energy levels. Also, it regulates the pituitary gland which releases some of your body's really important hormones."

"So…" Rajin shrugged. "What does it mean?"

"It's in overdrive," Scully said bluntly. She took her glasses off and tossed them lightly onto her notepad. "It's your basic case of 'cause and effect.' I have concerns that Emily's presence, or lack thereof, will start to impact the function of your Hypothalamus in both predictable and unpredictable ways. It's already ramped up," she pointed out. "Your brain is essentially calling out for her." Scully grimaced in worry. "I'm concerned that while it's waiting for her to answer, your body will start to stage a revolt."

With a groan, Rajin dropped his head back and stared up at the ceiling.

Scully watched him process the information for a few minutes. Eventually, she interrupted his thoughts. "We'll just have to monitor it. I think it's safe to say we'll be running these tests almost weekly for quite some time." When he finally met her gaze, she smiled gently. "It'll be ok. If this were a horrifically difficult process, your genetic line would've died out generations ago."

Rajin sighed. "True." He leaned forward, elbows on his knees. "Hotch told you what happened, right?"

"Mmmhmm."

"That's evidence of acceleration?"

"Uh huh," Scully confirmed with a touch of amusement in her voice. "At this point, especially since nothing has come within light years of consummation, I doubt even I'd be able to get near enough to treat you while feral."

"This sucks!" Rajin moaned. "Now I have to figure out how to get her to agree to essentially being my _caretaker_?"

"Just tell her the truth." At Rajin's expression of sheer disbelief, Scully amended her advice. "I meant just tell her a portion of the truth relevant to your immediate needs. That, for some reason, your body is only allowing her in your personal space while you're feral. You don't have to even let on that you know why." When he visibly relaxed, she made her next suggestion. "And she'll need to come see me for training. The sooner the better."

Rajin growled in reply.

* * *

It was nearly nine hours later that Rajin finally got to return to his office. He was mentally fried from an incredibly long day of just being an Assistant Director of a very specialized division and was lamenting the fact that he hadn't gotten to speak with Emily at any point during it. And given that a BAU team never _really_ knew how long they'd be in town, he didn't have much in the way of time if she was to get any training in with Scully – the doctor's earlier words having echoed through his subconscious off and on all day long. Yet to his surprise, he saw a head full of dark curls bent over Emily's desk as he came through the glass doors which housed the BAU. "You're still here," he murmured softly as he approached.

Emily's head jerked up at hearing the low tones behind her. She swiveled around. "Hey, you." Her lips curled slightly in self-deprecation. "Yeah, it's not unusual for me to stay late." She didn't feel like going into any detail as to _why_ she stayed late. He certainly didn't need to know she had no real life outside of work. Emily tipped her head sideways a bit and took in his appearance, giving him a long look of consideration.

"What?" Rajin glanced down at himself quickly, nervously checking to see if he'd left his fly open.

Emily narrowed her gaze. Something was troubling her deep in the recesses of her mind, she just couldn't pin it down. And she _knew_ she was making him nervous by staring at him, but whatever thought was flitting around the back of her head had to do with him. She was certain of it. "Nothing." She finally shook her head in defeat, smiling briefly. "It's just…"

Rajin lifted an eyebrow and smirked. "It's just…what?"

As she took in his tousled hair and overall wiped-out demeanor, Emily suddenly knew what was bothering her. She just didn't have the slightest clue as to why. "You're hungry. You haven't eaten since breakfast," she stated curiously. _No idea how, but it's like I know for a fact that he hasn't._

_Whoa_. Rajin's eyes widened in surprise. _That was fast!_ He had no idea Emily would start to pick things up from him so soon. And there was no other possible explanation for how she knew he was starving. No matter how great a profiler she was, there wasn't any way she could possibly know he hadn't eaten just by him standing there staring at her. "Umm." Rajin rubbed absently at his brow, attempting to hide his momentary shock. "Yeah. Famished actually."

Emily nodded. "Then you should get something to eat now. You did tell us about your metabolism…" she trailed off. Rajin's features turned sheepish as he scrubbed his hand roughly through his thick hair. She was beginning to recognize the move as a nervous habit he displayed when he felt uncomfortable or unsure of himself. She gave him a tiny wave when he bobbed his head and moved toward the stairs, presumably heading to his office.

Rajin got half-way up the stairs and stopped. He turned slightly back toward Emily. "Have you had dinner yet?"

"No," she offered him a wry twist of her lips. "I had my chance earlier when Pen made a sandwich run." Emily rolled her eyes. "I turned her down because I thought I was almost finished."

"Would you like to join me?" he asked hesitantly. "I don't…always…like to eat alone, you know?" At that moment, Rajin really didn't care what that statement revealed about himself. He just needed to move them forward.

Emily blew out a breath. "Yeah," she said softly. "I get that." She looked up at him and cocked a brow. "What were you planning on having? Might determine my answer." Her teasing tone belied her jest.

"House of Memphis," was the man's immediate reply.

Her nose crinkled in distaste. "Isn't that the hole-in-the-wall barbeque place off 5th?"

Rajin grinned. "Yes. And from your tone, I'm guessing you've never tried it."

"Umm…hole-in-the-wall, so…" Emily huffed in amusement.

He chuckled, crossed his arms, and leaned his hip against the rail. "Book and cover, Emily," he chided. "Now you're practically _obligated_ to try it."

"Yeah, yeah." She smiled widely, absurdly pleased at his noticeably improved demeanor.

Rajin pointed behind him. "Let me just get Hotch's order. Do you mind eating here?" His manner was apologetic. "I haven't had a chance to tackle any of my paperwork yet."

Emily just shook her head gently. "No, it's fine. But order me something good."

"You trust me to choose for you?" he asked with some degree of disbelief.

"Yep," she confirmed without hesitation. Then she pointed a finger at him, eyes bright with humor. "Just don't disappoint me!"

* * *

Forty minutes later found Emily staring warily down at the coffee table in Rajin's office where the man in question had just set down her dinner. That same man then grabbed one of his visitor's chairs and pulled it over to the table opposite his dinner guest. "I'm surprised that place delivers," Emily drawled as she cautiously opened the Styrofoam container. Her caution was mitigated somewhat by the heavenly aroma wafting up, causing her mouth to water.

Rajin smirked. "Ha ha." He passed a handful of napkins over to the woman on the couch. "You're a very funny woman, Agent Prentiss."

Emily's lips twitched. "Uh-yeah, I get that a lot." Her brows rose as she investigated Rajin's selection for her first meal from House of Memphis. "A man who likes the classics," she murmured, practically salivating at the sight of gooey ribs and seasoned fries.

"Actually," he gestured toward his own enormous dinner filled with a vast variety of BBQ dishes, "I just figured _you_ as someone who'd have an appreciation for simplicity."

"You know there's an unspoken rule about profiling your teammates, right?"

"Oh, please," Rajin laughed. "You could fill a hard-drive with all the stuff you've profiled about me over the last five days."

"Touché, sir." She paused momentarily. "Speaking of the last five days - how's your arm?" Emily eyed his right side intently, as though she could see through the material of his dress shirt.

Rajin ripped open the cellophane package holding a set of plastic-ware and nonchalantly shrugged. "It's fine. Another twenty-four, maybe thirty-six hours, and it'll be good as new. Just a scar to show for it."

Emily's eyes widened in shock. "No way. That took twenty-seven stitches!"

This time, Rajin's shrug was a bit more sheepish. "Meta healing."

"Gotcha," Emily murmured, eyes blinking in wonder. _Wow. That's some trade-off!_

The two agents spent the next fifteen minutes inhaling food with minimal conversation. Emily because she didn't want to interrupt the alarming pace Rajin was keeping as he steadily tore through his meal. His rather substantial meal, at that. Emily was, quite frankly, amazed at how much he was putting away…and how quickly. That gave her pause for thought, however, as she recalled meals shared with the team in Savannah. His portions were large then, as well, but not the extreme represented tonight. "Is this," Emily spread her hands out to encompass Rajin's half of the coffee table, "because you haven't eaten all day? Now granted, I don't know you all that well, but you didn't eat this much at one sitting while we were in Georgia. Just large regular meals and a lot of snacks and such." She made sure to keep her expression curious. The last thing she wanted was for him to think she was teasing or belittling him in any fashion.

Rajin nodded and hurriedly swiped at his mouth with a napkin. "Yeah," he said softly. "I…uh…was in and out of so many meetings and then a training session with one of the SpecPro teams, I just never had a…uh…chance to…you know…" He shrugged. "Take care of myself."

All Emily addressed in reply was, "SpecPro?"

"Special Projects?" Rajin raised an eyebrow, as though she should've been able to figure that one out on her own.

"Right. Right, sorry. Long day." Emily felt a blush heat her cheeks and quickly ducked her head. She busied herself by collecting her trash and throwing it into the delivery bags.

He graciously let her off the hook by turning the focus back on himself. "Makes me glad I saw Scully early in the day."

Relieved, Emily looked up at him with a half-smile. "Why's that?"

"If she'd gotten a look at me after an entire day of fasting?" He shuddered dramatically. "That woman can peel paint off a wall when she's all riled up. I should know…she's been ridin' my ass, health-wise, since I joined the Bureau."

"I see." Emily chuckled at the look on his face. "Well, I promise not to tell her." She stood up to leave with her trash. "I'm not likely to run into her anyway. Thanks for dinner."

Rajin watched her walk away and quickly stood up. "Emily?"

She turned back from the doorway to see him nervously rub his hand over his chest. She frowned. "Yeah?"

"Do you have another few minutes?" He gestured for her to sit back down couch. "Mentioning Scully reminded me there was something I needed to ask you."

Her frown deepened. _Was Hotch actually __**right**__ earlier? Holy shit, I thought the man was joking!_ She walked back over and dropped down in her previous seat, watched Rajin collect the detritus of his own meal. Her eyes followed him as he moved to deposit the trash in the receptacle by the door, on top of her own, before heading back to join her at the other end of the couch. "What's up?" she prodded when he just sat there tapping his fingers agitatedly on his knee.

Rajin's teeth dug into his lower lip as he considered how to broach the topic. Startled by Emily's prompt, he glanced over at her. He winced a bit and quietly admitted, "I'm not real sure how to ask something."

"Just ask it," Emily advised softly.

He sighed and turned toward her, placing his elbow along the back of the couch. His entire countenance gave evidence to his level of discomfort when he finally began to speak. "For some reason, right now, you seem to be the only person I'm letting into my personal space. When I'm feral, I mean." He stared down at the cushion, unable to meet Emily's gaze. "And after discussion with Scully this morning, there's no telling how long that'll be the case." He chanced a quick peek at Emily, who sat watching him with an expression of open curiosity and concern on her face.

"What does that mean exactly?" Emily's demeanor non-judgmental, just curious and welcoming.

"It's only safe for _you_ to approach me if I become feral," he admitted. "Scully's not even sure if she'd be able to get close right now."

Emily moved closer and placed a comforting hand on his forearm. "What do you need from me, Rajin? Whatever it is, it'll be ok. Just ask."

_She's being so great about this! Why isn't she freaking out?_ He stared hard at Emily, icy blue eyes meeting dark brown. Without breaking the eye contact, allowing her to see all of the vulnerability and defenselessness he'd previously kept hidden, Rajin hesitantly asked, "Would you be willing to commit to being…well…to taking…um…"

_Oh! Wow. _Emily saw all of it as she stared back at him. _This might be the bravest man I know._ And that was saying something considering the fact she worked with the likes of Aaron Hotchner and Derek Morgan. Smiling gently at the struggling man, Emily squeezed his arm where her hand still rested. Remembering Hotch's comment from that morning, she queried, "You need me to learn how to suture?" Her large eyes twinkled with humor. Her willingness evident in her voice.

Rajin closed his own eyes in relief, as a wave of gratitude and something else washed over him. He suspected the 'something else' was affection. And if it was, he needed to take a minute to center himself lest the emotion cause him to augment. He wanted to avoid that if at all possible. But so as not to leave the woman hanging, he nodded and murmured, "Yes, please."

Emily watched the tension leave Rajin's large frame as he sat motionless with his eyes closed. Without knowing why or how she even knew to do so, she released his arm and pulled her hand back. She had the overwhelming feeling that Rajin needed her to let go of him. So she just sat quietly and waited for him to continue.

Though it felt like an eternity to him, Rajin opened his eyes just two minutes later. There was a softness to Emily's face that he didn't understand as he stared at it. _But damned if I don't want to. _It was obvious to him that this was a woman he could trust with his differences. And whether it was due to the mate-link or just Emily being Emily, Rajin realized he needed to grab hold with both hands. "Thank you," he whispered.

Emily's lips twitched. "Sure." She tipped her head slightly. "Is there a plan to this?"

Rajin huffed in amusement. "Not really. It's just…you should probably get with Scully as soon as possible to get some basic medical training, as well as some _meta_-training."

"Ok," Emily smiled in reassurance. "I'll call her tomorrow. Is that it?" At his nod, she stood up and moved toward the door. "Goodnight, Rajin."

Rajin stood up and faced the door. "Goodnight, Emily." His smile was a combination of relief, gratitude, and gentleness. "Thank you," he murmured one more time. _You made that far easier than I deserve._

Emily offered a small grin in response and walked out the door. "Welcome," she called back without turning around, merely waving a hand carelessly over her shoulder.

'_Yep,'_ Rajin thought. _'Mine.'_

* * *

Two days later, Emily stood in the morgue making yet another attempt at sewing up a Y-incision on one of Scully's "patients." She chuckled. "Good thing this is a John Doe. Not the prettiest job, that's for sure."

"You're actually doing remarkably well." Scully was very impressed with Agent Emily Prentiss. Here it was, a rare Saturday in town for the BAU agent, and she was at the FBI Training Academy practicing suture skills she'd only learned the day before. It was obvious to the pathologist that Prentiss was taking her new tasks seriously and wanted to learn as much as she could in the time she had available.

"Well..." Emily bit her lip in concentration as she tied off the last suture and clipped the thread. "I don't want to make Rajin's scars any uglier than they need to be if I can help it." She peered up at Rajin's doctor and smiled self-deprecatingly. "Know what I mean?"

Remembering those early days in her own training, Scully laughed. "Yes. It sometimes makes me glad I only have the one living patient."

Emily found herself really liking the Chief Medical Examiner. She was intelligent, informed, and extremely dedicated to Rajin Scott's care. Emily got the feeling that Scully almost viewed the man as family, a younger brother perhaps. Regardless, there was no denying her desire to see Emily as prepared as possible before their next case.

Early yesterday morning, after clearing the time with Hotch, Emily had called Dana Scully and arranged to meet with the doctor. Overall, she'd spent some six hours yesterday getting a refresher course on basic first-aid before moving on to field triage and suturing. Then, after confirming Emily's CPR certification, Scully went on to list some of the differences in Scotty's physiology which Emily would be most likely to encounter. When Emily broached the issue of Rajin's doctor/patient confidentiality, Scully had admitted to her that Rajin had given his permission, allowing Scully to provide a more thorough training.

Emily and Scully had been in the morgue for about two and a half hours when the intercom sounded overhead. "Med-base 1, Med-base 1, this is SpecPro 3. How copy, over?"

Emily's eyes widened and her heart started racing. _SpecPro._ Without knowing how, Emily was certain something had happened to Rajin. She watched Scully hurry to the wall and slam her hand down on the radio switch.

"SpecPro 3, this is Med-base 1. I copy, over."

"Med-base 1, prepare to receive the King. I repeat, the King is in route to your location. How copy, over?"

Scully frowned. "SpecPro 3, copy that. Please advise method of transport and the King's status. Over."

"Med-base 1, the King is mobile, but is running extremely hot. Repeat, the King is running hot. Only the Eagle has visual. Over."

"SpecPro 3, what was the nature of the incident? Over."

"Med-base 1, an accident with Lightning Rod. Repeat – there was an accident with Lightning Rod. Break. Med-base 1, the King has _entered_ the building. Eagle has lost visual. How copy, over?"

Though worried, Scully couldn't help but smirk. She was relieved by the laughter in the SpecPro agent's voice. It made her think the damage wasn't severe. "SpecPro 3, I copy. Thank you. Med-base 1 out."

"SpecPro 3 out."

Emily was confused and incredibly worried. It didn't take a genius (or a SpecPro agent) to realize that the "King" was Rajin. And she gathered from voice inflection that he was injured and feral.

Scully quickly unlocked the wheels on the gurney holding the body Emily had been working on and pushed it back into the cooler. She would put it away properly later. She motioned for Prentiss to follow her as she ripped off her gown and mask, throwing them in the receptacle by the door. Emily mirrored her actions and chased the redhead out the door and into another room – one with biometric locks.

Emily looked around the new room. It was obviously an exam room of some sort. Glancing at the shelves, she noticed the obvious accoutrements one would expect to find in any ER. But she also saw items one _wouldn't_ typically find in a hospital. Chainmail gloves, heat shields, as well as things Emily couldn't identify. She watched Scully pull down supplies and place them on the counter. A closer look revealed those supplies to be ones Emily recognized as those used to treat burns. Seconds later, she turned toward the door in anticipation.

A growling Rajin burst through and came to a stop when he saw Emily standing in the middle of the room. He was visibly trembling and gasping for breath.

Emily approached him slowly. When she was within an arm's length, she moved her head to catch his gaze. "Hey," she whispered. "Where are you hurt?"

Rajin didn't answer. He looked over Emily's shoulder and saw Scully. He let loose an ominous growl from deep in his chest. Though it wasn't the warning growl Emily had heard him give Hotch the other day, it was quite clear the meta wasn't going to allow Scully to come near enough to treat him. She wondered why she didn't find it weird that she was becoming capable of classifying his different growls after only a week of knowing the man.

Emily reached for one of his hands. "Rajin." He looked back down at her, and she pulled him toward the table. "Where are you hurt? I need to know so I can help you." When he again looked over toward Scully, Emily squeezed his hand gently. "She can't leave. We haven't really covered burns in detail yet, so I'm going to need her help."

Rajin growled at hearing that. He frowned down at Emily who just shook her head.

Patting the table, Emily motioned for the man to sit. "She won't come near you, but she's going to have to tell me what to do." Seeing that Rajin wasn't going to make this any easier in his current condition, Emily began visually inspecting his person. He followed her every move, swiveling his head when she moved around the table. Emily winced when she finally saw his back. Through the tattered fabric of his t-shirt, the skin was scorched between his shoulder blades. "I'm guessing moderate second degree," she murmured to Scully. She really needed Scully to confirm, though. She looked over Rajin's shoulder. "Mirror?"

"Top drawer, end of the counter nearest you," Scully replied quickly.

Emily retrieved the mirror under Rajin's watchful eyes and moved back behind him. She held the mirror up, positioning it so Scully could see Rajin's wound from her spot on the other side of the room.

Scully nodded when she saw the burn. "I agree. You'll need the scissors, tweezers, water, and gel off the counter."

For the next ten minutes, Scully talked Emily through the cleaning and care of Rajin's burn, the man in question growling nearly the entire time. When there was nothing more for Scully to assist with, she prudently left the room so Emily could get Rajin calmed down. Emily moved back around to stand in front of the meta-human.

Emily stared into his altered eyes and smiled softly. She lifted a hand to gently run it through his hair, lightly scratching his scalp along the way. "Come on, big guy." She tipped her head. "No reason for all this fussing now, right?" Rajin's eyes remained augmented, and he continued to growl softly while watching the door. Emily placed her other hand on his belly and jolted at the contact. She'd had to cut off his shirt to treat his back, and the skin to skin contact now was unexpectedly electrifying. Shaking the feeling off, she took a deep breath. "You know how this works. Breathe with me, Rajin."

Emily really couldn't wait to tell J.J. and Penelope that she was right.

Rajin Scott was _built_.

TBC…

* * *

Author's Note: Just in case anyone was wondering, I use the actor Eddie Cahill as a model for Rajin Scott's physical appearance. It's his image I use to create "comics" images at my website. You can get the link to my website by visiting my profile.

Thanks for reading!


	5. Evolving Care

**General Disclaimer**

Any and all content related specifically to _Criminal Minds_ is the property of the creator **Jeff Davis,** **The Mark Gordon Production Company, CBS Television Studios, and ABC Studios**. Any and all content related specifically to _DC Comics, The DC Universe, and/or The Birds of Prey-TV _is the property of **DC Entertainment, Warner Bros., and Time Warner**. Any and all content related specifically to _The X-files_ is the property of **Chris Carter**, **Ten Thirteen Productions**, and **20****th**** Century Fox Television**.

Be advised that this is not my Petri dish. I'm just wrecking someone else's experiment. For free. All original characters and plots, however, do belong to me, Nation of Chaos, and may not be reproduced without my permission. 

* * *

_NOTE: Picks up immediately from where Chapter Four left off._

**Maximum Chaos**

By Nation of Chaos

Chapter Five – Evolving Care

She shouldn't feel as comfortable around this man as she so obviously did; she hardly knew him. Emily had no explanation for why there were no qualms about helping him at the deeply personal level it took to do so, no hesitation in touching him, no uncertainty whatsoever about climbing into his space – whether it be physical or mental. And that bothered her to some degree. She was a tactile person by nature, yes. Absolutely. But she didn't go around freely putting her hands on people until well after she got to know them.

It did not escape her notice that though he obviously had no problem with Emily taking liberties with his body and took no issue with her profiling his mental state, Rajin had been incredibly careful _not_ to reciprocate. Other than sheer incidental contact and his admittance to profiling her in order to choose her dinner the other night, she was certain he'd been making conscious decisions to _not_ invade _her_ spaces. And again without knowing the how or why, Emily was absolutely positive she was right. She just didn't quite know what to make of it.

In the meantime, the fact remained…she _was_ perfectly comfortable standing up against Rajin's frame with both of her hands on his person. It made no sense, yet there she was. But as she stood there, leaning against his legs, she realized the breathing exercise wasn't working as quickly as before. It made her intensely curious – filling her with questions about this wholly unique man.

Saving those questions for later, Emily moved her hand from his hair to his forehead, using her thumb to smooth the furrow in his brow. While Rajin continued with his breathing, she whispered nonsensical words of comfort and calm until his growls began to taper off. She returned her hand to his hair, scratching as best she was able with her blunt nails. Getting a positive response to the move, Emily began to rhythmically stroke through his thick, dark locks. She swept from the front all the way to the nape of his neck, continuing to whisper to him all the while. Soothing him into serenity.

Emily breathed a mental sigh of relief when Rajin's eyes finally flickered back to normal. She didn't like it, however, when he then closed them and dropped his head. Since she still had one hand in his hair, she moved it down to the back of his neck where she proceeded to massage the tight muscles she found there. "Hey, Pretty Boy," she quietly coaxed.

Rajin groaned and cracked one eye open to glare at her. "I knew I should've waited 'til _after_ her greeting before putting Barbara on speaker," he muttered crossly.

She bit her lip to keep from laughing outright at his latent grumpiness, evidently a byproduct of his ferine state as evidenced by his attitude both times she'd witnessed it. Emily tugged at the hair along his nape. When he finally opened both eyes to look at her, she smiled tenderly. "I need you to do me a favor."

_Like I'd deny her something at this point? Please._ Keeping his internal eye-roll to himself, Rajin just shrugged and mumbled, "Sure."

Emily raised an eyebrow, all traces of humor disappearing from her face. "Can we dispense with the self-castigation and embarrassment you feel when this happens? _Please_, Rajin? It's so unnecessary. And you might be surprised. A new outlook might help you to calm down faster."

_She's so pretty_. With her looking at him like she was, her deep, brown eyes filled with kindness and sincerity, he'd never seen a more beautiful woman. And based on the attention he'd thus far witnessed her receiving over the week he's known her, he could pretty much assert that his opinion was not merely a result of the mate-link. Emily was, by generally agreed upon standards, tremendously attractive. Inside and out.

And she was staring at him rather expectantly. _Why is she…? Oh. Right._ "Umm, that's nearly a lifetime of conditioning you're asking me to overcome," Rajin shyly pointed out. He was viscerally aware that Emily's hand was still clasped about his neck, her fingers still absently playing in the shorter hair she found there. It was definitely something he could get used to.

"I know," Emily stated, her voice full of understanding. She moved the hand on Rajin's stomach up to his chest where she patted him lightly. "But I think you make this a little harder on yourself than it needs to be. You're so busy fighting it you can't just let it run its course."

Rajin sighed. "Maybe." And because Emily was so close, he allowed himself to fall slightly forward in fatigue, his forehead coming to rest gently on her shoulder.

Her eyes widened a bit in surprise, but Emily didn't try move away from him. It was the first physical contact he'd actually initiated, and if he needed the comfort badly enough to break pattern, she had no intentions of denying him. Silence descended over the room as she let Rajin collect himself. She supposed that were someone to come into the room and see them standing thus, their positions would appear much more intimate than they actually were. _Oh, who are you kidding, Emily Elizabeth?_ What they were doing was the very definition of 'intimate.' Maybe not the most popular definition of the word, to be sure, but intimate nonetheless. But she now knew more of this man's medical history than she did that of all her other friends and teammates combined. She'd like to think she and Rajin were becoming friends. Quick ones, at that. Because even though Rajin's situation was abnormal, a simple co-worker wouldn't do this for another co-worker, nor would one ask another co-worker to do so. _Nothing_ about this was professional. And her agreeing to help him meant she had to be comfortable with the fact that their relationship had crossed those boundaries. And she was. Surprisingly so.

Emily trailed her hand down from his chest to grab hold of his fingers, squeezing them gently. "You seem to be in more pain this time – compared to the other day," she murmured. She peered over his shoulder at the ugly burn marring his upper back – facilitated by him still leaning down against her. "Does the level of pain have anything to do with how long it takes you to calm down?" she queried softly.

Rajin stiffened at the question. He was _not_ prepared to divulge to her anything about the mate-link. Not yet.

"What is it?" Emily murmured against the top of his head, the tension in his frame unmistakable.

He started to lift his head, but Emily pushed it back down – it was easy enough for her to do with her hand still resting on his neck and that he didn't resist her small show of force. "Don't get up if you're not ready," she instructed quietly. "Just take your time, ok?"

Rajin nodded against her shoulder and took a deep breath, slowly relaxing muscles which had contracted in panicked reaction to her curiosity. He absolutely, positively _did not_ want to lie to her. "I…uh…I don't," he whispered into the cotton of her t-shirt, "know…umm…about the…the pain thing."

Emily frowned at the uncharacteristically faltering speech coming from Rajin. She silently squeezed his hand in comfort, as she could tell he wasn't finished.

"There's a…umm…something…" He sighed and pressed his head more firmly against her soft form when tears pricked at his eyes. He nervously chewed the inside of his cheek for a second before gamely pressing forward. "Something going on with me that's causing the feral part to…umm…trigger more easily and…uh…linger longer."

Emily lightly scratched at his scalp and tipped her head down so her mouth rested near his ear. "Is it hurting you?" she worried.

He gave a minute shake of his head. "No, it's not a bad thing." He pulled back a fraction and looked at her hesitantly; his clear blue eyes a bit moist. "But is it ok if I'm not ready to talk about it yet?"

"Of course!" She cupped his face, absently running her thumb over his cheekbone, and smiled softly. "You don't have to tell me anything you don't want to tell me. I just want you to know that you _can_."

Rajin nodded, his lips twitching into a weak semblance of a return smile. His eyes managed to convey his sincerity when he replied, "I know."

Emily's own eyes twinkled mischievously. "Good. Besides…I have a _ton_ of other questions you can answer instead!"

That got him to crack a real smile of amusement. He finally pulled completely away from Emily, stretching his back to test his limitations. He winced when he pulled too far. "Ask away, Florence Nightingale," he joked with a grimace on his face.

She dropped his hand and shook her head with a grin. "You might be sorry you said that, _Your Highness_."

Rajin rolled his eyes at her subtle dig at his codename. "That's short for 'King of the Jungle,' you know…for the meta-thing…and the boss thing. And incidentally…," he glared at her playfully, "not my idea."

"I see." Emily watched him hop down from the table somewhat gingerly, holding his incredibly well-defined torso rather stiffly. He also looked tremendously uncomfortable to her discerning eyes. "Burns always seem to hurt more than any other type of injury, don't they?" she asked in commiseration.

"Yes," Rajin hissed. "Why is that? This aches like a son-of-a-bitch." He tried to rotate his shoulders but stopped abruptly with another wince. "Fuck. Give me a slice over this any day."

At his last comment, Emily looked at the back of his right arm. She saw nothing more than a thick, pink line running nearly the length of his triceps and marveled anew at his healing capabilities. "Well, at the rate you heal and with any luck, the pain will be nothing but a memory this time tomorrow."

"True." Rajin looked around and spotted his shirt on the counter. He walked over and picked it up, eyeing the ruined fabric with dismay. "You cut it! I loved this shirt!"

Emily's shoulders shook with silent laughter at his consternation. She laughed even harder when he turned around to place his hands on his hips and scowl mightily. "What did you expect?" she explained, voice still choked with humor. "Cutting that off was the only way for me to get at your burn. You are, after all," she gave him a reflective look, raking him head to toe, "a really big guy. It's not like I can manhandle you…especially when you're feral."

_Actually, you could. Easily._ Rajin sighed and pitched the shirt in the trash. "Scully!" he yelled, fairly certain the doctor was somewhere nearby.

Sure enough, Dana Scully entered the room less than a minute later. She found a shirtless Rajin standing next to the counter and Agent Prentiss leaning against the table. She lifted a brow. "You bellowed?"

Rajin ducked his head sheepishly. "Sorry. I didn't know how far away you'd be."

"Evidently…not far," Emily mumbled.

"You can just hush," Rajin replied mildly, merely shaking his head when she giggled. He turned back to the doctor. "You get in any more scrub shirts in my size?"

Scully nodded and moved to a cabinet in the corner. She pulled out a blue shirt wrapped in clear plastic and tossed it to him. "I'm not sure you should put it on, though."

Rajin frowned as he caught it. "Why? I can't walk out of here half naked."

Clueing in, Emily marched over and pulled on his arm, forcing him to turn around. "Hey!" he protested. "Did you not _just_ finish saying you weren't able to manhandle me?"

"Meh," Emily shrugged. "You let me." She lightly ran a hand down his shoulder blade and around the bottom edge of the burn. "You put a shirt on, and it'll stick to this gel. Ruining all my hard work, I might add!"

Rajin threw his hands up in the air. "We're in the basement! In case you haven't noticed, there isn't a handy window I can jump out to avoid running into people. I already get talked about enough around here. I can only imagine how much worse it'll be if folks see me running around half-dressed."

All kidding aside, Emily did feel a little sorry for him. He was obviously hurting, his grouchy attitude was proof of that, and he probably just wanted to go home and rest. Emily had learned during her lessons with Scully that Rajin's healing capabilities really only worked if he was able to sleep it off. And he was always, _always_ lethargic after coming down from a ferine episode.

"Ok," Emily said, thinking fast. "Here's what we'll do. You have your car keys on you?"

"Yes," Rajin warily replied.

"Need anything out of your office that can't wait until Monday?"

"Noooo."

Scully leaned back against the wall and smirked. Today was the first time she'd gotten to watch the two of them interact. So far on this Saturday, she'd witnessed Agent Prentiss turn an extreme and total focus on caring for the injured, feral man as Rajin submitted completely to her, and now she watched them bicker and tease each other as though they'd known one another for years rather than days. And to her great relief, what she saw was something Rajin – who was entirely too close to the situation to be objective – could not. These two had a personal chemistry with one another that was profoundly attractive, pulling them together. The _mate-link_ didn't cause the chemistry. The _chemistry_ caused the mate-link. There was simply no way their chemistry was this strong after only a week had it been caused by the mate-link. That was not the progression described in Rajin's pride history. But because Rajin had no mate-linked couples to speak with, he'd had no way of knowing how mate-links were formed. He'd been working under an assumption that simply wasn't true. Scully needed to tell him this, but watching them now it was pretty clear it wasn't going to be today.

While Scully had been surreptitiously studying the mate-linked pair, Rajin and Emily had been fussing over logistics. Emily eventually won – which surprised Rajin not even the slightest little bit. He merely sighed and handed over his car keys. Emily called Garcia so the tech could remotely shut down the camera in the North elevator – on the Assistant Director's authority, of course. She then swiftly bid Scully goodbye, grabbed her purse from the good doctor's office, and took off for the parking garage to get Rajin's car.

As it was Saturday, there were only about half as many vehicles as normal on the deck where he said he'd parked. Therefore, finding his car was no great feat – especially since it was a cherry red 1965 Ford Mustang. Emily's eyes brightened when she saw it, shaking her head as she recalled Rajin's description. _"Red Ford Mustang, classic custom plates."_ Would it have killed the man to let her know the "classic" was to be taken literally? She gleefully unlocked the door and climbed in, smiling widely at the interior. The white leather seats, the open steering wheel, the stick shift, the antique gauges. _Wow_. She put the key in the ignition and turned the engine over. _Whoa._ She carefully backed out of the space and drove over toward the elevator, parking the car directly in front of it. Emily then diligently locked the vehicle and jumped back into the elevator for one last brief ride.

When the doors reopened in the basement, Emily took one step out. She held the elevator while she quickly scoped out the long hallway leading to the morgue. Seeing not a single soul, she quietly said, "Come on, Pretty Boy. The coast is clear." And sure enough, seconds later, Rajin came bolting out of the morgue – running toward Emily from the other end of the basement.

"Don't call me that," he muttered upon arrival at her location. He was unable to keep his lips from twitching, however, so his annoyance was not taken at all seriously by a smirking Emily who just lightly punched him in the arm and held out his keys.

"Nice car, by the way," she drawled.

Rajin smiled openly at that. "Thanks. Took me nine years to rebuild." He looked down at her and shrugged as they stepped out of elevator. "All the traveling and stuff. So it's not my everyday ride or anything."

Emily's eyes widened. "You _built_ it? Yourself?"

"Rebuilt. It was practically scrap when I bought it." Rajin noticed the hint of awe on Emily's face. "It's my hobby," he explained in an effort to downplay the achievement. "Workin' on cars. No big deal, really."

"I guess. You did a great job, anyway." She stood next to the impressive antique coupe, watching Rajin ease himself into the driver's seat. "Don't lean back!" she reminded him as he was about to do just that.

Rajin glanced up at her somewhat sheepishly. "Thanks." He looked down briefly, then back up at her. "For the reminder. And the compliment…and the help."

Emily's features softened. "S'ok. Remember to sleep on your stomach, too." She reached in and ran her fingers through his hair one last time. She was a little worried about him going home alone with his burn being in such an inaccessible location. "Call me if you need anything," she instructed as she pulled her hand back.

Rajin stared at her and remembered how it felt to lean on her, how it felt to finally know comfort, calm and absolute peace, now wishing he could take her home with him. Instead, he merely sucked it up and smiled sweetly at her. He nodded, pulled the door closed and then drove off. Emily watched with mixed feelings, staring after him for a moment before heading toward her own vehicle. 

* * *

Emily worried about Rajin off and on for the next twenty-four hours. She eventually gave in to her desire for contact as she drove up her mother's driveway. Not wanting to disturb him if he was resting, she sent Rajin a short text message before getting out of her car to have lunch with the Ambassador.

She'd been home for hours when she finally received a response to her text.

_The cat needs a scratching post._

Emily laughed out loud as she read the message. She was pleased. That meant he was feeling better. She instantly typed out her reply – _'If you just lie still, you won't itch._ – and then settled back into the sofa cushions to read a book while she awaited his reaction.

She got through only three pages before her phone signaled an incoming text.

_Ha! That's complete crap, and you know it!_

And before she could react to it, another immediately followed.

_Je suis dans l'agonie._

Emily's mouth dropped open, and then she grinned. She quickly pressed a series of numbers and brought the phone to her ear. She didn't even give him time to issue a greeting; just began speaking as soon as the line connected. "I knew it!" she crowed. "I knew I was hearing France in your voice!"

"_That's it? No 'I'm sorry you're in agony, Rajin.' Seriously? You just called to tell me you were pattin' yourself on the back?"_

Emily bounced on the sofa in excitement. "I'm sorry you're in agony, Rajin, but come _on!_ Tell me why you have hints of a French accent. That doesn't happen unless you live somewhere for years. Be_lieve_ me, I know!"

Emily heard him sigh and thought it sounded a little sad. 

* * *

Rajin sighed into his cellphone and sat up. "I did live there for years. Six of them."

"_When? How old were you, and where did you live?"_

Emily's childlike curiosity was easily detectable, and it brought a smile to his face. He knew the memories of her own years abroad prompted the questions, and it wasn't like he was going to refuse to answer. Some memories were just harder to verbalize than others. "Twelve. I was twelve when we moved to Paris. Well…Meaux, but close enough. The suburbs."

"_Where did you move from? And why?"_

Rajin stopped to think about how to answer. The pause was evidently long enough to worry Emily.

"_You don't have to tell me. I'm sorry I'm being too nosy."_

"No, Emily," he tried to reassure her. "It's not that. I just…it's a really long story." He heard her clear her throat before replying somewhat hesitantly.

"_I don't have any plans for the rest of the evening."_

He smiled again and rose to his feet. As he wandered into the kitchen for a bottle of water, he murmured, "Well, we left Gotham in '82…" 

* * *

They spoke for over two hours, both losing track of time. When Rajin yawned in her ear for the third time in as many minutes, Emily glanced at the clock on the television. "Oh, shit! Rajin, I'm so sorry. It's late, and you should be sleeping." _He's still healing, you dolt!_ She mentally slapped herself.

"_Meh…I slept for well over twenty-four hours, Em. I'm fine."_

Emily carried her mug into the kitchen and set it in the sink. "Says the man who can't keep from yawning."

"_Yeah, ok. You win this round."_

Emily quietly bid him 'goodnight' and headed upstairs for bed. As she was falling asleep some thirty minutes later, a random thought crossed her mind. _He called me 'Em.'_

* * *

Several miles away, Rajin curled an arm around his pillow. He drifted off to sleep with one realization dominating his synapses. _I like her._

And it had nothing to do with the mate-link. 

* * *

Rajin and Emily spent the next four weeks slowly finding out more and more about each other. It was such a gradual process that neither realized just how much they were actually learning. Or the importance of what exactly they were divulging to one another. Or that what one was willing to share with the other wasn't something they would necessarily share with anyone else.

Emily learned rebuilding classic cars wasn't Rajin's only passion. She discovered his love for classical music, and that had he not been an FBI agent he would've studied to become a symphony conductor.

Rajin learned Emily loathed ants with an unholy fervor yet was inexplicably and utterly fascinated by ant colonies and farms.

Emily learned Rajin didn't particularly like chocolate. This knowledge was extraordinarily difficult for Emily to come to terms with.

Rajin learned he should never take Emily to Wendy's® lest he be forced to endure watching her dip her French Fries into her Frosty®. He was, quite frankly, horrified that someone would ruin a good French Fry in such a manner.

Emily learned Rajin was personally affronted by zoos and aquariums and vehemently objected to Sea World®, circuses, and any other operation which exploited animals and sea creatures for the sole purpose of human enjoyment. And when he explained his concerns and objections in detail, Emily realized she kind of agreed with him. But it was difficult for her to reconcile her desire to see the animals and sea creatures with her belief that it was ridiculously selfish for humans to train Orcas to jump on command and then become outraged when one attacked.

Rajin learned of Emily's fear that her mother didn't know just how much Emily really loved her. Because Emily knew there were times in her life when she truly had hated her mother and that her mother knew it, the guilt from shunning the Ambassador occasionally kept her awake at night. She and her mother were both reticent people, so Emily was deeply afraid her mother would never know how proud she was of her and just how important Elizabeth Prentiss was to her only child.

Emily learned Rajin could get high on catnip.

Rajin learned it was becoming increasingly difficult for Emily to relate her interactions with him to solely a professional level while at the office or on a case. He realized that while she had no trouble being professional at work, it was taking her a great deal of effort to act as though it was the only relationship they shared. He became conscious of a need to let her know she didn't have to pretend they weren't friends while in front of others. He also discovered he was the first friend she'd ever had who outranked her to such a large degree and she was having trouble figuring out how to manage that.

Emily learned that Lightning Rod was another meta-human and a member of one of Rajin's three Special Projects units. Emily learned how much she was trusted when she found out things not even Hotch or Strauss knew. That, like them, her clearance level wasn't exactly high enough to know about Lightning Rod. Or Eagle. Or Juice, Riptide, Flex, or any other member of the Special Projects division. It wasn't high enough to know that they profiled and hunted meta-human serial killers like the BAU hunted humans. But Rajin told her anyway.

Indeed, they learned a great deal during those four weeks. But for all they discovered about each other, they never came close to scratching the surface. And what they were discovering about themselves couldn't even be quantified. And what they were _noticing_ went unspoken and unacknowledged. 

* * *

The first week in December found the BAU's best team back from a grueling ten-day case in California. Contrary to his first week with the team, Rajin didn't turn feral at the drop of a hat. He hadn't been injured since the training exercise with SpecPro 3, and for the most part, he'd been able to handle his emotions – especially given that Hotch had been pairing him with Emily more and more frequently. He did augment once while having a heated exchange with Morgan during the last case, but Emily was able to calm him down fairly easily. What she didn't know was that her task was facilitated by the fact that the argument didn't involve her at all.

But now the team was grounded for the next seven days, and Emily arrived at the office with mixed emotions. On the one hand, the team needed a break from the rigors of travel. On the other, paperwork was often more draining than being on the road. Regardless, she vowed to make the best of it. When she entered the bullpen, Emily immediately glanced up at Rajin's office. She could see his light on, so she grabbed the gift bag she'd brought with her and headed up the stairs. "Hey, you," she called in greeting as she stood in his open doorway.

Rajin looked up from his place in front of a tall cabinet in the corner. He was playing with the ends of a tie dangling about his neck, and his expression was one of immense relief at seeing her. "Hi. Can you help me?" He tugged the tie off and pitifully held it out. "Mrs. Williamson is on vacation."

Frowning in confusion, Emily entered his office and set the gift bag down on his desk. "Mrs. Williamson?" she queried as she approached him. "From the Archives?"

"Yeah." Rajin ducked his head so Emily could reposition the tie about his neck, tucking it under his collar. "She's been helpin' me tie my ties since I came out of the Academy. Caught me in the elevator fussing with it one day. Saw what a mess I'd made of it, so she straightened me out. Then she winked and told me where I could find her. 'Just in case,' she said. Well, I'm hopeless, so suffice to say…I'm down in the Archives about twice a month."

Emily smiled softly as his explanation unfolded. Rosalie Williamson was nearly seventy years old and had been the gatekeeper of the Academy Archives for over thirty years. And Emily could tell from the tone of his voice that Rajin simply adored her. "Where are you headed that a tie is required, Mr. Business Casual?" She pulled the knot tight and snuggled it up against the hollow of his throat.

"Thanks." He ran a finger under the collar, hating the constriction. "Monthly meeting at HQ."

"Stop that." Emily slapped his hand away from his neck and smoothed the fabric back into place.

Rajin let loose a low growl and reached for the matching suit jacket. He shrugged it on and tugged on his shirt cuffs to settle everything in place. "Do I look ok?"

_You look delicious._ Emily ignored her inner voice and murmured, "Yep. You look great." She then turned back toward his desk and picked up the bag she'd brought with her. "I got you something." She held it out to him.

Rajin's brows rose. "Not my birthday, Em. What's up?" He pulled the tissue paper out of the bag and looked inside. Rajin's jaw dropped when he pulled a t-shirt out of the bag. It was the same design of the one she'd cut off him a month ago. "How did you find this?"

"You can get anything off the internet these days." She smiled down at the black fabric in his hands. Though she knew he hadn't really blamed her for destroying his original "Cats Rule. Get Over It." t-shirt, she'd still felt bad. The slogan was just so…so…_him_…she'd just _had_ to find a replacement.

He grinned happily at her and moved to place the shirt by his keyboard. "Mo'isa," he murmured under his breath before raising his voice loud enough for her to hear his "Thank you." After a quick glance at his watch, Rajin frowned. "I've got to get going." He walked with her out the door. "If I'm back in time, can you do lunch?"

Emily answered in the affirmative and before she knew it, he was gone. She shook her head in bemusement and wandered back to her desk to begin what was sure to be a long day of consults and reporting. 

* * *

The day the team resumed its place in rotation, J.J. gifted them all with a very early wake up call. A situation in Connecticut she and Hotch had been monitoring all week had blown up in timely fashion, pulling everyone out of bed hours before dawn. And Emily, never a morning person on her best days, muttered a string of curse words in several languages as she turned her key in the ignition of her car for the third time. Another moment of futility later had her grabbing her phone and speed-dialing Rajin Scott.

"Have you already left your place?" Emily asked as soon as he answered.

"Just. What's up?" It was not difficult for him to hear the beleaguered panic in her voice. He began slowing for a U-Turn before she could reply.

"Know a good, honest mechanic?"

Rajin chuckled. "I might. What's it doing?" He quickly changed lanes and directed his vehicle toward Emily's condo.

"How am I supposed to know? It won't start. That's it." She thumped the steering wheel in frustration.

He grinned and shook his head. He'd only been to her place one other time but he easily calculated the distance from his current location. "Be there in a few minutes."

Less than ten minutes later, Rajin dropped into the driver's seat of Emily's car and tried to start it. Unlike Emily, however, he listened to the engine when it refused to turn over. "It's not the battery," he muttered. "Sounds like it might be the starter." He climbed back out and moved toward the trunk. "I'll have to take a look when we get back; we don't have time right now." He removed her go-bag and tossed it into the backseat of his beat-up Jeep Wrangler CJ 7. "Hop in."

Emily skeptically eyed the SUV. "You couldn't have driven the Mustang?" She grabbed the hand Rajin held out to her in assistance and allowed him to help her up. "I'm still not sure this thing is safe," she grumbled, pulling the seatbelt on once she was finally situated.

Rajin huffed in amusement. Her complaint was the same one he'd heard on the two previous occasions she'd ridden in his everyday vehicle. "Hey, you called me, remember?"

"Well…you were convenient. And cheap."

That cracked him up. 

* * *

Forty-eight hours later, no one felt like laughing. Rajin's gaze followed Emily as the brunette suddenly rose from the table and quickly exited the conference room. He watched through the room's large windows as she turned down a short hallway he knew lead toward a break area outside the precinct. The team had just returned from a fresh crime scene, as their unsub had broken pattern and moved a great deal more quickly than any of them had anticipated. To call the scene horrific would be a gross understatement. It was one of the worst he'd ever seen.

And with regards to one specific part of the crime scene, he was absolutely certain it was the worst _Emily_ had ever seen.

Rajin also walked out of the room but detoured toward the vending machines. He fed a dollar into one, made his selection, scooped up the bounty, and turned to follow after Emily. It was nearly pitch dark outside, and Rajin's eyes augmented in order to locate her. He found her sitting on a bench several yards to his right, hunched over with her face in her hands. She must have felt him coming because, even though he was absolutely silent, she didn't flinch when he sat down next to her.

Emily lifted her head just enough to turn it toward him, chin now resting on her clasped hands. "Hey," she muttered weakly.

"Hey." Rajin offered her the bottle of Sprite he'd purchased and watched her stare at it for a long moment before accepting it. He offered no explanation for how he'd known she was feeling nauseous, and she declined to ask.

It wasn't the first time Emily had witnessed him display a curious knowledge of her well-being far beyond that which he could profile. He just knew things about her at certain times that he quite simply shouldn't. Equally puzzling were the times when _she_ knew things about him that she was convinced she shouldn't know. Emily filed this occurrence away, vowing to give it more consideration when she had the time. Instead, she just unscrewed the cap and sipped at the beverage he'd procured for her.

After a couple minutes had passed, Emily leaned over and rested her body fully against Rajin's large, solid frame. "Thanks," she eventually murmured.

Rajin looked down and smiled softly, his growing affection for her carefully hidden by the night. "Anytime," he whispered.

As he sat there with her, he couldn't help but think Robert Burns got it right when he wrote that man's inhumanity to man made countless thousands mourn.1

Particularly, one occasionally fragile FBI agent. 

TBC… 

* * *

1The specific quote is from a poem by Robert Burns called _"Man was made to mourn: A Dirge_. And it reads as follows:

"Many and sharp the num'rous ills

Inwoven with our frame!

More pointed still we make ourselves

Regret, remorse, and shame!

And man, whose heav'n-erected face

The smiles of love adorn, -

Man's inhumanity to man

Makes countless thousands mourn!"


	6. There Is Power In Knowing

**General Disclaimer**

Any and all content related specifically to _Criminal Minds_ is the property of the creator **Jeff Davis,** **The Mark Gordon Production Company, CBS Television Studios, and ABC Studios**. Any and all content related specifically to _DC Comics, The DC Universe, and/or The Birds of Prey-TV _is the property of **DC Entertainment, Warner Bros., and Time Warner**. Any and all content related specifically to _The X-files_ is the property of **Chris Carter**, **Ten Thirteen Productions**, and **20****th**** Century Fox Television**.

Be advised that this is not my Petri dish. I'm just wrecking someone else's experiment. For free. All original characters and plots, however, do belong to me, Nation of Chaos, and may not be reproduced without my permission.

* * *

_NOTE: Picks up immediately from where Chapter Five left off._

**Maximum Chaos**

By Nation of Chaos

Chapter Six – There Is Power In Knowing

* * *

After about twenty more minutes, Rajin gently nudged Emily off his arm only to stand and hold out a hand. Emily stared at the hand much as she had the one that held the bottle of Sprite earlier.

And for the same reason.

Somehow, some way, Rajin knew she was feeling better and was ready to go back inside. Emily sighed lightly and gazed up at him through the darkness, his features obscured by shadows. "Not now, but someday soon, we're going to talk about this," she stated softly.

Rajin's breath caught, but he opted not to feign ignorance. He'd told himself he wasn't ever going to lie to her. _Delay_ an explanation? Absolutely. Lie? No. So he just waggled his fingers in mute invitation and whispered, "Ok."

Emily's lips twitched and she rolled her eyes, but she eventually reached up to take the proffered hand, allowing him to pull her up. He released her immediately once she was upright but remained close as they made their way back into the precinct. All heads looked up when they returned to the conference room, all of them zeroing in on Prentiss's pale face and somber demeanor.

No one said anything. Probably because they were all feeling similarly and simply didn't wish to acknowledge it. But whatever their reasons, Emily was grateful for their silence. She took a seat between Hotch and Reid and refocused on the case.

* * *

Later that same day, some eighteen hours after visiting the most recent and gruesome crime scene, the team was once again gathered in the mid-sized police station's large conference room. They had made little progress. Even after revisiting earlier scenes and re-interviewing family and friends with new information they had gleaned from the latest murder had netted them nothing. But because there were children involved, they had just continued to push onward throughout the day. Striving to find something that would lead them to their unsub. By this point, however, they were so tired that cognitive processes had slowed dramatically, and they were doing little more than repeating themselves and sniping at one another.

Hotch slapped a folder closed, glanced down at his watch and sighed. "Alright. We're barely functional, so we're going back to the hotel for some rest." He looked around the table at his weary agents. "Let's pick this back up in the morning when our heads are clearer." No one argued with him and just began lazily packing away their case files and notes.

The team split up in the parking lot: J.J. and Emily went with Scotty in one SUV, Spencer and Derek with Hotch in the other. Beyond exhausted, Emily hauled herself into the backseat and closed her eyes, deciding to rest them for the duration of the short trip back to the hotel. Once Rajin had maneuvered the truck through the parking lot and reached the street, he shot a quick glance in the rearview mirror at Emily, who was leaning against the window with her eyes closed. He then looked over at J.J. and murmured, "If I don't get something else to eat tonight, I'm going to start gnawing on my arm." When she muffled a giggle against a fist, he continued quietly, "Would you please call one of the others and ask them if they want anything?"

J.J. nodded and did as requested. Minutes later, Rajin pulled in under the golden arches, it being the only fast food restaurant on the way back toward the hotel – the other eateries all being closed this time of night. Since he didn't want to leave Emily in the car alone while she was asleep, and since J.J. had memorized the orders from the other vehicle, his options were to send her in alone or to go through the drive-thru. And he was _not_ sending J.J. into McDonald's® alone to order food for five people this late at night when she was as, or possibly _more,_ tired than the rest of them – her also having had the extra burden of dealing with the press all day long in addition to talking with grieving family and friends of the victims. That her slight form belied a hidden strength was certain, but he _still_ wasn't sending her in by herself.

_Drive-thru it is. Hope this doesn't wake her_. He glanced in the rearview mirror once more, features softening at the sight of a dozing Emily. When it was their turn at the speaker, he gave their orders – with J.J.'s help, of course – as quietly as possible. After confirming the order, Rajin shifted the SUV into 'drive' and pulled toward the window.

"What about Emily?" J.J. asked with a frown on her face and worry in her voice.

"I'm pretty sure she's not hungry." At her skeptical look, he turned more toward the blonde and shrugged. "You know she never wants to eat when she's this tired," he covered, hiding his more cerebral knowledge of her well-being. He pointed with his thumb toward the backseat. "And if she's tired enough to fall asleep within minutes of getting in the truck?"

J.J. nodded. "True. I just don't want to leave her out."

It was their turn at the first window, so Rajin handed his credit card to the pimply-faced kid staring blankly out at him. A minute later, with card and receipt in hand, he turned back to regard J.J. seriously. "I'd never do that. Leave her out, that is." He peered over his shoulder at Emily, lips unconsciously curling into an affectionate smile. After a few seconds, he moved to face forward once again. "So if, for some reason, she decides she _is_ hungry once we get back to the hotel, I'll give her some of mine or go out to get her something of her choosing." He eased the SUV up to the next window and reached out to receive the bags of greasy food.

J.J. said nothing as she took the bags he handed over to her, but her eyes turned contemplative. She hadn't missed the look on Scotty's face as he'd stared down at her friend. And her brows rose high on her forehead when, upon their eventual arrival at the hotel, the Assistant Director indicated he would be the one to awaken Emily. J.J. watched as the man shifted to open the door Emily was leaning against. She was about to caution him, lest gravity make for a rude awakening for the sleeping woman, when she saw Scotty hold up his right hand to the window by Emily's head, his palm facing outward. She observed his eyes narrowing in concentration as he slowly edged open the door.

Emily didn't move. She was now leaning against open air and still very much asleep.

To J.J.'s surprise, Scotty didn't move to immediately wake the woman. Even more puzzling, J.J. witnessed his eyes flickering to gold as he stared down at the slumbering agent. Part of her wanted to turn away at the emotion visible on his face. The other part rationalized that Scotty knew she was there, so if the exposure didn't seem to bother him then J.J. shouldn't let it bother her. His eyes did not remain augmented for long. Less than a minute, surely. But long enough to mean something. J.J. was certain of that.

Rajin was in a unique position. It was the first time he'd had cause to witness Emily so vulnerable. He'd never even seen her sleeping on the plane, as Emily preferred to talk or read to pass the time on flights back to DC. Occasionally she played chess or cards with Reid, but he'd never before seen her asleep. He could sense J.J.'s intense scrutiny but couldn't bring himself to care. Emily had been pressing him for weeks to be less ashamed of his baser meta characteristics, and (though she didn't yet know it) that included the mate-link. So if he was learning to not be ashamed of the mate-link then he wasn't going to be bothered by anyone witnessing his deepening relationship with SSA Emily Prentiss. The alpha in him would challenge anyone who had anything negative to say about it anyway. The only one whose opinion mattered at all was sleeping right there in front of him; her long, dark lashes resting against pale, smooth cheeks. He leaned in close. "Mo'suaim," he murmured gently. "Suasgail, le do thoil."

J.J. watched in rapt fascination as Emily's lids fluttered at the softly spoken words and then slowly opened. J.J. hadn't understood a single word of what Scotty had spoken, but she guessed Emily had because the brunette's eyes latched onto his as soon as they opened. Emily then sleepily reached up and absently patted Scotty's cheek, mumbling, "I'm up, I'm up," before practically falling out of the SUV when he stepped back.

Rajin flung his arm out to catch Emily about the waist. "Sorry. I guess I let go of the TK too quickly," he muttered regretfully, pulling her against his solid frame until she was steady on her feet.

"No." Emily shook her head. "I was just clumsy…not your fault. That's just me being me." She stood upright and walked away, moving around the front of the vehicle to meet up with J.J. She realized for the first time that they'd made a pit stop on the way back. "Hungry, Jayje?" she joked, eyeing the stuffed bags in the blonde's hands.

J.J. just smiled and playfully threw out a leg as though to give Emily a swift kick in the rear. "I'm tired. Let's just eat and crash." When Rajin made to take the bags from her, J.J. shook her head. "I've got it. Thanks, though." She watched Rajin sigh in resignation and fall in behind her and Emily.

The two women headed for the hotel entrance, and Emily reached over to snag one of the bags so J.J. didn't have to carry all three. Unlike Rajin, Emily just didn't give the blonde a choice. Distraction also worked, so she quickly asked, "You didn't get anything for me, did you?" while peering into the sack she held. Emily really hoped not. She had no appetite whatsoever.

"Nope." J.J. jerked her thumb over her shoulder. "He said you probably weren't hungry."

Emily nodded. "He was right."

Rajin's brows rose in amusement as he trailed behind the women. "Just for the record, _he_ would like to remind you that his hearing is extraordinarily sensitive."

Emily lifted her head and frowned. She then leaned to her right. "Did you hear something?" she asked J.J. curiously.

J.J. nodded. "I'm surprised, though." She cocked her head speculatively. "I didn't think bees came out at night."

"Bzzz, bzzz," Scotty hummed with a smile and kicked a loose pebble across the parking lot.

Emily ducked her head and bit her lip to ward off a smile of her own.

* * *

J.J. fought off a yawn and tugged back the blankets on her bed. She looked over to see Emily sitting on the edge of hers, wearily rubbing lotion into the skin of her arms. She turned back to give one of the pillows a quick thump before collapsing onto it. "What language was that?" she asked Emily.

Emily frowned at what seemed to her a very random question. "Um…what language was what?"

"When Scotty woke you up?" J.J. glanced over to see the confusion on Emily's face. "He said something in order to wake you. What was it?"

"All he said was 'wake up, please.' You didn't hear him?" Emily asked curiously.

It was J.J.'s turn to frown. "Well yeah, I heard him. I just didn't understand what he was saying because it wasn't in English. You obviously did, so what language was he speaking?"

"Huh," Emily muttered.. She tipped her head in thought and then shook it a moment later. "I have no idea," she hesitantly replied. "It wasn't English? Are you sure?"

J.J.'s eyes widened in disbelief. "Uh, yeah. Completely sure, Em. The dude was speaking a foreign language." She stared hard at the brunette. "And you understood him," she pointed out meaningfully.

Emily didn't respond. She had no idea what to say.

"What's going on between you two?" J.J. asked softly.

Emily picked absently at the leg of the boxer shorts she used as pajamas. She sighed and shrugged somewhat helplessly. "I wish I knew." She turned and crawled under the covers. After much squirming and pillow-fluffing, Emily finally settled on her back with her fingers laced behind her head.

J.J. watched all of this with fond amusement, having witnessed it on many occasions in many hotel rooms on many cases in many different cities. Once the brunette was finally situated, J.J. returned to the topic at hand. "You like him." It wasn't a question.

"Of course I do. He's a great guy. And really interesting." Emily turned her head toward J.J. "You like him, too."

J.J. nodded in confirmation. "I do. But you _like_ him," she stated, her meaning clear.

Emily's eyes widened in surprise. "You know…that really hadn't occurred to me." She watched as skepticism painted its way across J.J.'s face. "I'm serious, Jay. I'm not sure you're right, but I won't outright deny it either. Rajin and I are friends. That role I fill with him – where I calm the feral part of him down?" she paused to see if J.J. understood. At the blonde's nod, she continued, "it took us immediately outside the realm of the professional. It had to, you know? So we've become close faster than I've ever done so with anyone else. I feel an inexplicable affinity for Rajin. It's just easy with him."

"What is?" J.J. queried curiously, wondering if Emily just didn't _realize_ the depth of feeling between she and Scotty.

"Everything," Emily responded thoughtfully. "We work well together. He's kind, intelligent, fascinating, and funny. He's so easy to get along with, resolutely open-minded about nearly everything." Emily shook her head in bemusement. "And he's so…so…_open_. He answers just about every question I ask him. And if there's one he doesn't want to answer, he just politely asks for a pass. I get the feeling, though, that he'll eventually answer those, too."

J.J. stared at her friend with concern. "Em…he's not like that with everyone else." She absently motioned with a hand. "Ok, yeah. He's kind, intelligent, and humorous with everybody. Scotty is most definitely an affable guy, but he's not…open." She met Emily's gaze. "He's very secretive about himself. You haven't noticed?"

Emily shook her head. "No. But the way he is with me could just be a product of that role I take. I mean…you don't put your hands all over a person and remain indifferent. Whether you're the handled or the handler. You know what I mean?"

"I guess," J.J. mumbled. _Maybe Emily really didn't feel more for Scotty than friendship. But that doesn't mean he doesn't feel more for her._ "I just think there's more there. For crying out loud, the man's eyes augmented while he was watching you sleep. That has to mean something, right?"

_Wow._ Emily was not prepared for that information. Her lessons with Agent Scully had included learning what caused Rajin to…well…kick into high gear, so to speak. And Emily doubted physical necessity or extreme pain were at issue an hour ago. That only left the third reason. Emily's mind was too overloaded to think about that one just yet. She sat up in the bed but kept her head down, staring at her lap. "Probably," she obfuscated, not really answering. "But that doesn't mean I'm ready for it." She looked up then, her face full of vulnerability and confusion. "He's an Assistant Director, and you know there are rules about that. And I've only known him a few weeks; I just can't move that quickly with someone. And there's something else," she confessed. "It's too weird to understand, and he and I haven't discussed it yet. But it freaks me out a little."

J.J. threw the covers back and got up to sit next to Emily on the other bed. "What are you talking about?"

Emily moved over a bit to make a little more room. She puzzled over J.J.'s question. "I'm not sure I can define it. I know things about him that I shouldn't." She looked down and began picking at her nails. "I can sometimes tell if he's sleepy, hungry, grouchy, happy…" she trailed off.

"You just named three dwarfs." J.J. smirked and bumped her shoulder against Emily's.

Emily rolled her eyes. "Two. You're confusing grouchy with Grumpy."

J.J. smiled. "Details, details." She then thought about what Emily said. "But...you can all do that to a certain extent. You're profilers; it's what you do."

Emily was shaking her head before J.J. finished speaking. "Not like this. We profile what we _see_. I can tell these things about him even if he's across town. I don't have to see him or talk to him. It's like I just…_know_." She shrugged. "And he can do the same."

The light bulb suddenly clicked on in J.J.'s head. "That's how he really knew you weren't hungry tonight."

"Yep. And like I said, we haven't talked about it. Actually, early this morning was the first time we've even acknowledged it existed." Emily let her hands drop into her lap, overwhelmingly weary. "Part of me thinks it's meta-related and that he's afraid to address it."

J.J. patted her friend's covered leg and then rose to her feet. She crawled back into her own bed and yawned again. "Maybe that's why you could understand whatever language he was speaking earlier even if you don't know what it is," she sleepily pointed out, reaching over to turn off the lights.

"Maybe," Emily murmured in the darkness. "Guess we'll find out soon enough."

* * *

"I'll handle it, Aaron." Scotty's tone was artic and abrasive as he addressed Hotch while staring daggers at Morgan. He was fairly vibrating with the need to let loose.

Emily's eyes widened in alarm at what she sensed from Rajin. _Enough of this_. She needed to do something before Armageddon descended on the room. "Let's go check out the back," Emily suggested quickly, grabbing a bristling Rajin by the arm and pulling him toward the rear of the house. Just before they turned the corner into the hallway, Emily glared at Morgan over her shoulder. "You're welcome," she muttered to the obstinate and insubordinate man. It had been two days since Emily's late-night conversation with J.J., and she was remembering it vividly as she escorted Rajin out the backdoor into a big yard that bordered a heavily wooded forest to the north.

Back in the house, Morgan glanced around at the remaining members of his team. "What was that supposed to mean?" he asked crossly.

Hotch glowered at the obtuse man. "It means you're lucky Prentiss is as perceptive as she is. You were about to either be fired or tossed through the window." Disgust was clear in his voice. "My money's on the latter." Hotch's jaw clenched tightly closed for a moment as he mentally counted to twenty. "And the only reason I'm not peeling a strip off you right now," he finally continued, "is because _he_ wants to, and it's his right. Take a walk, Agent Morgan. And I'd steer clear of the backyard if I were you." Hotch spun on his heel and stalked out of the room, moving toward the stairs and heading up to check out the bedroom that once belonged to a five year old girl.

J.J. unobtrusively excused herself, quietly stating a need to address the media gathered out by the road.

Spencer said nothing. He stared at Morgan with a frown of confusion dominating his features.

"What, Reid?" Morgan glared at the younger agent.

Reid shook his head in utter bewilderment. "I find it curious. And extremely baffling. You waste all this energy and time on belittling AD Scott when the only member of the team _not_ contributing in a positive manner right now is…well…_you_. All you've managed to provide over the course of this investigation are distractions." Having forthrightly said his piece, Spencer left Morgan standing alone in the front room of the Culver's house.

Brett and Janine Culver were the parents of Lucy Culver.

Lucy Culver, a little girl who was delivered home from kindergarten earlier that day in a cardboard packing box addressed to her father.

The team wasn't handling it well.

* * *

"That was handled well, don't you think?" Emily rubbed a hand across Rajin's back in a pacifying motion meant to ward off any meta-augmentation prompted by his verbal altercation with Morgan. Her sarcasm wasn't lost on her companion.

Rajin huffed in acknowledgement of her efforts and leaned slightly back into her hand. "It's not like that, you know," he stated wearily, seemingly out of nowhere.

Emily stared at Rajin's downcast head before looking around the backyard. Spotting a bench a few yards away, she directed the agitated man toward it. "What isn't like what?"

"What Morgan implied." Rajin sat down and tipped his head back. "When he said, _'Why can't the meta just hunt this asshole down before he kills another little kid?_' I can't do that, Em. And not because I don't have the ability." He peered over at her expressive face and saw both confusion and a profound desire to understand him. "To do it, though, I'd have to turn the feral part of me loose. Allow it to totally consume the rational, thinking me." His eyes darted away from hers, and his shoulders slumped as he slouched further into the bench. "And I'm not sure I could come back from that," he whispered in resignation.

Lifting a hand to the back of his neck, Emily ran her fingers up into his hair to scratch lightly at his scalp. She had no words for him, so she soothed him in the manner she knew worked best.

"It's not like I don't _want_ to use my abilities to find this guy."

Hand still in Rajin's hair, Emily leaned over to catch his eye. "You don't have anything to prove to me. I know how hard you fight to maintain a balance every single day." She offered a half-smile. "Not sure _how_ I know, mind you. But nevertheless…I do."

Rajin sighed and looked up at her as her face hovered above his. He finally smiled back at her, completely unable to help himself. "I'll give you ten years to stop doing that," he murmured, leaning into the hand she was using to scratch lazily at his scalp. After all, Rajin enjoyed being petted as much as the next cat.

Emily accommodated him for another few minutes and then pulled back. "Come on, Pretty Boy. Time to catch us a psychotic bastard."

"Don't call me that."

* * *

It was Reid who finally broke the case wide open. Through a series of equations and leaps of logic no one else could follow, he somehow managed to pinpoint the unsub's location to a six-block area just east of downtown. Based on the profile they'd developed, the team split up to search the two most likely buildings. Reid stayed behind to run point on the maps, with Garcia providing technical back-up via the phone if required.

To Morgan's disgust, Scotty chose Derek and J.J. to accompany him, while Hotch took Prentiss. The reasons for this decision were twofold for Hotch and Rajin. One, Rajin simply didn't trust Morgan with the most important person in his life. This meant that in takedown situations, Rajin trusted Emily's welfare to only himself or Aaron. And since Hotch also knew that Emily's life essentially equaled two lives, that Rajin's survival was dependent upon hers, Rajin knew Hotch would remain extra vigilant.

The second reason for their decision was much more perverse. It was a very passive-aggressive form of punishment. Scotty knew Morgan despised being in his presence. Therefore, Scotty was making sure to give the man a steady dose of the very thing he despised. Scotty's amusement was the only factor, however, that made Morgan's attitude bearable. It was something Rajin was planning to address in short order, most likely at the conclusion of this case.

So the team went off in two directions, each group taking with them several local LEO's. Ten minutes into searching a vacant and dilapidated four-story office building, Rajin felt a chill creep over his skin. His heart began to race and a feeling of dread filled his belly. _Emily._ Something was happening at the other building, and Rajin wasted no time second guessing the sensation. He immediately summoned J.J. and Morgan, who'd been sweeping another floor, and instructed them to meet him outside. He'd let the locals finish the search, but what they were looking for simply wasn't there. He knew it deep in his gut.

J.J. tuned out Morgan's bitching as they ran to meet up with Scotty. Ignoring him had become commonplace over the last few weeks, so she didn't even give it a passing thought. She was more concerned about the urgency she'd heard in Scotty's voice.

Having already told the detective who was with them that they were heading to the other site, Scotty was waiting for J.J. and Morgan out front, the SUV idling at the curb. As soon as the two agents climbed into the vehicle, Scotty gunned it and quickly pulled into traffic. He said nothing as he sped away, just floored the accelerator and began weaving around the slower moving cars.

"What's going on, man?" Morgan gripped the handle above the door and stared at the Assistant Director from his spot in the backseat.

"Crandall's at the other building." Scotty jerked the steering wheel and growled at the driver of a delivery truck stopped in the street. He hastily glanced over his shoulder and then moved around the boxy vehicle, flooring it once again as soon as he was clear.

Morgan frowned and continued to brace himself as the SUV rocked from side to side. "Hotch call you?" Because there were two different takedown squads, and in order to avoid confusion, the teams were not connected to the same communications channel. As Morgan understood it, the only way Rajin could only know what was happening was if Hotch or Prentiss had called him.

"No."

When Scotty said nothing else, J.J.'s head jerked up in a flash of understanding. "Emily." She looked over at Scotty in alarm as she recalled the conversation from the other night. "You know something's wrong." It wasn't a question, and her meaning was clear to the surprised meta-human.

Rajin looked over to J.J. in shock. He immediately turned back to watching the road as the SUV ate up the distance between where they had been and where they needed to be. He considered J.J.'s inference and wondered just how much Emily had figured out. She'd obviously said _something_ to the media liaison. A few moments of silence passed as J.J. and Morgan stared at Scotty. Eventually, he gave a short jerk of his head. He was spared any further probing questions as he saw the other building at the end of the block. In seconds, they were exiting the truck.

Rajin followed his gut, that invisible link to Emily that tugged at him, and ran around the side of the old edifice. To his horror, he looked up and saw her close to the top, dangling over the edge of the fire escape with her feet flailing against the decayed metal in a fruitless attempt to find some sort of purchase. He took in the sight at a glance – the rusted and broken rungs, the missing steps, the weakened bolts holding the structure loosely to the building. It didn't matter to him _how_ Emily had ended up in that predicament. Only that Rajin needed to get her out of it.

J.J. and Morgan caught up with him just as he was eyeing the building across the alley, his back to Emily. J.J. gasped when she saw Emily high above, precariously hanging on to a fragile piece of metal. Morgan cursed and made to leap up onto the lowest rungs of the rickety fire escape.

"Don't!" Rajin shouted, spinning around to glare at the other man through yellow eyes. "Unless you want to bring that whole thing down on you, killing Emily in the process, then you'll look before you leap! It's unstable as hell." That said he put everyone but Emily completely out of his head. Rajin then turned back toward the other building, made some quick calculations in his head, and vaulted skyward. Just prior to the highest point in his jump, he pivoted his body and slammed his feet against the neighboring structure, his momentum forcing him to rocket off the side of it straight back across the alley toward a third-story window two floors below Emily.

The building in question was an old, brick monstrosity in the beginning stages of renovation. Most of the upper windows were still boarded over including all of those nearest the fire escape. But Rajin wasn't aiming for the window itself, and as he flew toward it he reached out and latched onto the window sill. He clung by his fingertips for only a second before using that sill for leverage, his meta-enhanced strength allowing him to launch himself straight up to the fourth-story window directly above. The entire journey from ground to fourth floor took only a few seconds. He gripped the brick sill with his fingers and peered up at Emily. "Air a' cumail, leann'ach!" he called up to her as he reached up to pull the board off the window. He wedged his fingers under the lower lip of the plywood and gave a sharp tug of his arm. The nails squealed as the board came loose.

The hold Emily maintained on the flimsy metal contraption that used to be a fire escape did not allow her the ability to look down. But even though she couldn't see Rajin, hearing his voice calling up to her was almost as great a relief. "I'm trying," she muttered back, knowing she didn't have to shout for him to hear her. "But I don't think I can for much longer."

"You won't have to! Just a few more seconds, I promise!" Rajin looked up at her as he dangled by one hand and held the freed board out over the alley. "Look out below!" He dropped the piece of plywood and turned back to the window, paying no attention to where the board landed. With both hands available once again, he pulled himself up enough to fling a leg over the sill and into the window that was now open most of the way. He straddled the window sill and, once stable, reached up to pull off the other piece of plywood that had been nailed over the opening. He threw that one into the building. Rajin then scooted forward until his belly rested against the jamb and clamped both legs taut so that his grip on either side of the wall was as strong as his augmented power could make it.

Rajin leaned out until his torso and both arms were free and looked up at Emily. "Em…this is it, leann'ach. Bheil thu deiseil?"

"Ready for what?" Emily badly wished she could see below. Her hands were beginning to sweat, and she feared she'd slip at any second. It made her nervous that Rajin's voice was the only one she heard. It made her think there was no other help coming. It never occurred to her that he wasn't even supposed to be there.

"Ready to let go?" Rajin asked as he quickly took in the distance between his position and the fire escape.

Emily shifted her grip. "I'm not going to have a choice in a minute." Her voice shook, providing ample proof of her fear.

Rajin focused on Emily's hands, saw them slip, saw her re-grip, her knuckles white against the rusted metal. "Ok, then. On my mark, I want you to push off the fire escape as far as you can toward the right."

"Where are you?"

"In a window a floor below you." He didn't sugarcoat the situation, letting her know exactly how far she was going to have to free-fall.

Emily shook her head in disbelief. "Are you crazy? I can't even reach the fire escape with my feet." She looked to her right and saw how far away the windows were. "And I'd never make it over there."

Rajin calculated the distance again. "Yes, you will. But you'll have to push off hard. Let the whole damn thing collapse after you push, just make sure you get a good one in before it crumbles. You're actually not that far from it with your feet. Your toe has been hitting it fairly regularly. Give a little swing, and you'll bump up against it."

"I – I don't think it – it'll work, Rajin," Emily muttered weakly, her fear evident once again.

His sensitive hearing easily picked up her words. "Yes, it will. I promise I'll _make_ it work."

"It's too far."

Rajin closed his eyes for a brief second. "Annam crèid, mo'suaim. I will _not_ let you fall. Push off and let go."

Emily glanced over to the boarded window, gauging the distance in an effort to figure out how hard she'd need to push.

"Mo'geall, Em. Annam crèid."

Emily closed her eyes. "Ok," she breathed softly. She began to swing her legs.

Rajin braced himself and focused intently on Emily's swaying form.

With a slight grunt, Emily whipped her lower half in the direction Rajin had indicated and kicked out, forcing her body to the right as she came off the structure.

Unbeknownst to Emily, Rajin had focused in on the fire escape and used his TK to bring it close enough for Emily to reach without it cracking under the movement. Once she made impact, however, he had to let it go in order to focus on her falling form. The entire rusted contraption groaned under the force of Emily's kick and began to collapse, the already weakened bolts finally giving way to the forces of time and gravity. With a horrific clatter, the structure slid down the face of the building and rained on the alley below.

Neither Rajin nor Emily noticed the chaos around and beneath them. While the fire escape was crumbling to the ground, Emily was sailing through the air, free-falling at a rapid clip toward Rajin. She hadn't pushed off as far as he'd have liked, so he leaned out a little further, the most he could without losing his legs' grip on the wall. It was a decision made in an instant because it took only a second for Emily to drop the dozen feet needed to reach him. He snagged her about the waist at the earliest possible moment and quickly tightened the muscles of his inside leg even more when her inertia threatened to yank him out of the window. Rajin then countered by pushing against the inner wall, allowing their combined weight to drive them into the room behind him.

He landed hard on his back and immediately clutched Emily to his chest, his arms banding tightly around her body as his fingers dug into her vest. Amid the clouds of disturbed dust billowing up they both trembled in reaction. They lay there for a long moment.

"I do trust you," Emily finally muttered into Rajin's throat. "So…thanks."

He huffed in relieved amusement and squeezed her even closer. "You betcha," Rajin whispered, pressing his face to the top of her head.

* * *

The locals arrested Frank Crandall, whom Hotch had taken down on the roof right after Emily had gone over the edge, and took him back to the station for questioning. The team spent the rest of the day wrapping the case all up in a tidy, little bow. Hotch, with Morgan's assistance, managed to sweet talk Crandall out of more details than the perp probably wanted to divulge before he finally asked for an attorney. J.J. worked with the local police's media relations department to help them draft statements for the public. Reid, Prentiss and Scotty – who hadn't let Emily out of his sight and wasn't planning to for the foreseeable future – searched a large storage unit Crandall had accidently mentioned during interview. In it they discovered the tools of his trade: child pornography, cameras – both video and still – and a small set made to look like a child's bedroom. To say they were sickened didn't do their reactions justice.

Hotch made the decision to fly out immediately rather than stay over one more night. Considering the events of the day, the team was more than ready to put the state of Connecticut behind them. And given the various tensions between differing members of the group, the plane ride home was strained and filled with unease. Emily realized that today's close call was affecting Rajin a great deal more than she thought it should have, and she had no idea what to do about it. Rajin realized he was going to have to do something about Morgan's attitude as soon as they returned to DC, and he wasn't looking forward to it at all. Hotch realized he could've lost two agents today and that only he and Scotty knew it. It was a physically and mentally tired group that lounged about the plane's cabin late that evening.

Emily excused herself from the conversation she was having with J.J. and Reid and moved back to where Rajin and Hotch were seated. She passed by Morgan who was slumped down against the window, earbuds in place. She didn't see his eyes following her only to harden in an angry glare when she stopped and placed a hand on Rajin's shoulder.

"Hey." Rajin looked up at Emily and cocked his head. "You ok?" He reached out and ran a finger down her arm beside the bright, white bandage covering her elbow – the one she'd scraped along the brick as she'd plummeted into Rajin's arms earlier that day.

This was different, and he'd been doing it all afternoon and evening. Emily wasn't used to Rajin touching her so freely when he'd been so reticent about doing so as recently as just that morning. She wanted to know what had changed. Emily shifted nervously at his actions and flicked her eyes quickly over to her immediate supervisor before focusing back on Rajin. "Yeah, that's kind of what I wanted to ask you," she murmured, a bit unsure how to act with him in front of Hotch.

Hotch easily read her discomfort and uncertainty, so he sensibly decided to excuse himself. "I'll be right back. I just need to speak with the pilot for a moment." He gave them both a nod, got up and headed down the aisle.

After silently watching Hotch walk away, Emily spun back around to Rajin. He was staring intently up at her. He stood to give her access to the window seat, so she slid by him and collapsed into it. She curled up in the seat so she could face him, her knee brushing his thigh.

"He knows we're friends. You can be yourself with me when we're around him." Rajin leaned in to catch her eye, unsure of what else he wanted to say.

Emily met his gaze, nodded, and then quickly looked away. She wanted answers but knew it wasn't the right time to ask questions. She wasn't sure why she'd even approached him at all. This desire to check on his well-being...it was an unknown compulsion. It was as though she knew she wouldn't rest without knowing he was alright. She peered up at him, and her breath caught. He _wasn't_ ok; she could read that in his clear, blue eyes. "Rajin?" she prompted in a whisper.

Morgan was seething in his seat, glaring at the back of Scotty's head, when Hotch plopped himself down across from him. The pilot's voice could be heard announcing final approach, so both men absently buckled their seatbelts.

"Something on your mind?" The senior agent lifted a brow at the visible animosity etched into Morgan's face.

Derek yanked the earbuds out of his ears and leaned forward. "What's going on with those two, Hotch? And don't try to tell me there's nothing," he hissed quietly. He jabbed a finger in the air, heatedly pointing toward the two dark heads bent close together. "The guy puts himself on the team – because let's not forget he's an _Assistant Director_ and can pretty much do what he wants – and immediately starts in with the meta bullshit. Then what happens?"

Though highly agitated, Morgan managed to keep his voice down, furiously unleashing his frustration on the Unit Chief in a whisper. "He drafts Emily – _our Emily_ – into whatever he's doing, no doubt fooling her with a line of absolute garbage. What?" Morgan sneered. "AD's aren't held accountable to the same regulations we are? Is that because he's an AD or because he's meta-human, Hotch? He's _playing_ her, trying to get in her pants, and you guys have the nerve to say something to me about _insubordination_? Don't you sit there and tell me nothing's going on." Morgan sat back and waved a hand in disgust. "What's going on over there is _exactly_ what it looks like."

Hotch hadn't interrupted him. There was no point. He knew the damage had been done the very second Morgan started speaking. Derek may have forgotten about Raj's meta-hearing, but Hotch hadn't. And the AD had specifically told him that he would handle the problem. Hotch felt the wheels touch down on the runway at the same time he heard the growl sound from behind him.

"Are you quite finished, Agent Morgan?"

Hotch saw J.J. and Reid at the other end of the cabin start to rise, preparing to leave, but then watched their eyes widened in alarm as they looked beyond where Hotch and Morgan were sitting. He peeked over his shoulder to behold a livid Rajin standing rigidly in the aisle, glaring down at Morgan with intense, golden eyes.

When Morgan said nothing in response, Rajin let loose with a long, low, rolling growl which vibrated in the air, racketing up the tension to a whole new level.

"Everybody to the conference room _now_," Scotty ordered through clenched teeth. He continued to glare at Morgan until the other man finally scowled and ducked his head to unbuckle his seatbelt.

Rajin never looked away. He just reiterated his order. "_Everybody_."

TBC…

* * *

AN:_ The language Rajin is speaking is his native tongue – a bastardized, backwoods variation of Scottish Gaelic. It will be revealed later that he was born in a secluded and segregated village in Scotland, his entire Pride having been based there._

_Suasgail, le do thoil. = Wake up, please._

_Air a' cumail. = Hold on._

_Bheil thu deiseil? = Are you ready?_

_Annam crèid. = Trust me._

_Mo'geall. = I promise._

_leann'ach = sweetheart_

_Thanks for reading! _


End file.
